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THE 
COMPLETE 

POETICAL WORKS 

OF 

JOHN MILTON : 

n 

WITH 
EXPLANATORY NOTES, AND A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, 

BY THE 

REV. H. STEBBING, A. M. 

TO WHICH IS PREFIXED, 

DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY 

ON THE 

POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. 



NEW YORK: 

D. APPLETON & CO., 200 BROADWAY 

PHILADELPHIA : 

GEO. S. APPLETON, 148 CHESTNUT ST. 

MDCCCXLYII. 



T1R3SS1 
.Si 



*^^ 










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CONTENTS. 




Dr. Channing's Essay on the Poetical Genius 


Page 


of Milton 


1* 


Memoir of the Author's Life 






V 


Paradise Lost .... 






17 


Paradise Regained 












297 


Samson Agonistes 












355 


CoMus, a Mask 












399 


L'Allegro 












426 


II Penseroso 












430 


Arcades 












435 


Lycidas 












438 


POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 




On the Death of a fair Infant .... 


444 


A Vacation Exercise 


446 


On th(i Morning of Christ's Nativity 


449 


7'ho Passion 


455 


On Time 


457 


Upon the Circumcision * 


458 


At a Solemn Music 


459 


An Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester 


ib. 


Song- on May Morning 


461 


On Shatspeare 


462 


On the University Carrier .... 


ib. 


Another on the Same 


463 


The Fifth Ode of Horace, Lib. I. . . . 


464 


On the New Forcers of Conscience under the 




Long Parliament 


465 


Sonnets 466—476 | 


Psalms ........ 477. 


-500 


De Authore Testimonia . . . . » 


501 


A 





iv CONTENTS. 

ELEGIARUM LIBER. 

Pag? 

Eleg'ia I. Ad Carokim Deodatum . . 505 

II. In obi turn Pi-tjecoiiis Academici Can- 

tabriiiiensis .... 507 

III. In obitum Praesulis Wintoniensis . 508 

IV. Ad Thomam Junium .... 510 

V. In Adventum veris .... 513 

- VI. Ad Carolum Deodatum rxiri commo- 

rantem 5Ifi 

VII. Anno iEtatis 19 519 

Epigrammatum Liber 522 

SYLVARUM LIBER. 

In obitum Procancellarii, medici . . . 525 

In Quintum Novembrij? 526 

In obitum Praesulis Elicnsis .... 532 

Naturam non pati Senium 533 

De Idea Platonica quemadmodum Aristotcles 

intellexit 535 

Ad Patrem 536 

Psalm CXIV. Gra^ce 539 

Ad Saisillum, Poetam Romanum aegrotantem . 540 

Mansus 541 

Epitaphium Damonis 544 

Ad Joaonem Rousium ..•••» 650 



MEMOIR 



MILTON'S LIFE AND WRITINGS. 



The celebrated subject of this Memoir was born Dec. 
9, 1603. His father, who was a scrivener, soon after 
obtained a sufficient fortune to retire from his pro- 
fession, but resided, at the birth of the poet, in Bread- 
street, London. After having received considerable 
advantage from the instructions of private tutors, 
Milton was sent to St. Paul's school, where he made 
a remarkable progress in classical literature ; and 
from Vv''hence he was sent to Christ's College, Cam- 
bridge. In 1028 he took his B.A., and in 1032 his 
M.A. degree ; after receiving which, and declining 
to take holy orders, he retired to his father's house at 
Horton, near Colebrooke, in Buckinghamshire. Dur- 
ing the five years he resided here, he pursued his 
studies with an ardour and diligence which have 
seldom been equalled; and besides making many ac- 
quisitions in learning, he produced his exquisite 
poems of Comus, Lycidas, and some other minor 
pieces. 

About the year 1638, his mother died, and he ob- 
tained the consent of his father to make a tour on 
the continent ; he accordingly set forth, and very 
few travellers could be found possessing the qualifi- 
cations for profiting by their journey which Milton 
had acquired in his retirement. In the different 
parts of the continent, therefore, which he visited, 
he was received with the greatest attention by the 
most celebrated men of the age, and he returned to 
England, after an absence of fifteen months, with 
the acquisition of many honourable friendships, and 
an important addition to his stock of knowledge and 
accomplishments. It had been his intention to pro- 
long his tour by a visit to Greece, but the civil com- 
uioiicns which preceded the establishment of the 
A 



\i MEMOIR OF MILTON'S 

Commonwealth were commencing, and he conceived 
it his duty to lift up his voice in a struggle to which 
his love of liberty gave the highest interest. 

Almost immediately after Cromwell had obtained 
an established ascendancy, Milton was appointed 
Latin secretary to the government, and in this situ- 
ation, besides performing the proper duties of his 
office, he distinguished himself by several works 
written in defence of republican principles, and of 
the conduct of the men who had rendered them- 
selves most conspicuous in the late contest. Before, 
however, he acquired this situation, he passed through 
some troubles of a domestic nature, which it is pro- 
bable, materially influenced many of his subsequent 
feelings and opinions. In the year 1643, he had 
married the daughter of a gentleman of the name of 
Powell, a magistrate in Oxfordshire. Unfortunately 
for the parties, they each belonged to factions, over 
which political rancour exercised entire control, and 
Milton had scarcely been united a month, when his 
wife requested pei-mission to visit her relatives. She 
obtained her desire, but soon after intimated that 
she never intended returning. This circumstance 
gave birth to our author's celebrated writings on the 
subject of divorce ; and he was on the point of mar- 
rying again, when his repentant wife sought a re- 
conciliation, and she was restored to favour. At this 
time also he took pupils, and by the income he thus 
obtained, he was enabled to support not only his 
family, but the father and mother of his wife, who 
subsequently suffered in common with the rest of the 
royalist party. 

About the year 1639, after having been for some 
time labouring under an affection of the eyes, he 
was afflicted with the total loss of his sight, which he 
never recovered. But this caused no diminution to 
his zeal for learning, and as soon as he found him- 
self free from the burden of public controversy, he 
commenced a History of England, which, however, 
he carried no farther than the Norman Conquest. 
He also prepared some portion of a Latin Thesaurus, 
which was published in the Cambridge Dictionary 
of 1693. But events were about to happen, which 



MEMOIR OF MILTON'S. rii 

however inimical to the temporal prosperity of Milton, 
were, it is probable, of the utmost use in concen- 
trating- the powers of his mind on an object suf- 
ficiently noble for their employment. By the restora- 
tion of the royal family he lost his office, was driven 
into obscurity, and was for some time in hourly 
danger of suffering- for the active part he had taken 
in the councils of the revolutionary government. 
But fortunately for the interests of literature, his 
noble genius was no longer to be occupied in the de- 
fence of political factions, or in the preparation of 
treaties. He was henceforth to be left in solitude, 
and in the undisturbed peace of his obscure home, 
to hold communion with his own spirit, which had 
been gathering- strength from worldly trouble, and 
with the great and awful spirit of truth which con- 
verted the splendid workings of his imagination into 
revelations of her hidden glory. The conception of 
the Paradise Lost was not one of those flashes of 
genius which it would be impossible, perhaps, to trace 
to their cause. It had b€;en long growing and de- 
veloping in his mind, and when the particular form 
of the work was determined, the vast and glorious 
assemblage of thoughts and visions which had been 
long present to his intellect, arranged themselves in 
a beautiful and perfect order — the creative faculty of 
the poet had been at work, and it wanted but the 
repose which is necessary to judgment to connect 
imag-ination with design. But there is an inspira- 
tion proper to the highest order of poets, which 
Milton enjoyed in a supreme degree, and the posses- 
sion of which he signified by those intimations he so 
fondly gave of his communion with celestial visitants 
in his lonely chamber, and in the stillness and dark- 
ness of the night. To this mysterious elevation of 
nature, if it be nothing else, or to this divine gift of 
clear intellectual vision, are to be ascribed the deep 
and solemn tones of his lyre, the grandeur and splen 
dour of his representations, the power with which 
he calls up from the unfathomable depths of chaos 
and eternity spirits of good and evil, the glory with 
which every scene and object he describes is bedrop- 
ped, and the calm authoritative lang-uage with which 



viii MEMOIR OF MILTON'S. 

he inculcates the xinchang-iiig- beauty of virtue. We 
have here also, it may be conjectured, a reasoi? 'vhy 
Paradise Lost, and I believe it has been the case 
with all great poems, was the work of Milton's de- 
clining- yefM's. It was produced when every turbulent 
feeling of youth was subsided ; when experience 
had had her perfect work, and when his soul could 
listen in quiet to the voice of the charmer, wisdom. 
Many of its most brilliant passages might have been 
produced in earlier years, but it could only be when 
the waywardness of thought was subdued, and the 
human spirit stood free from temporal hopes and 
v/ishes, that it could bear such a weight of glory; 
that it could look long and steadily upon the majes- 
tic vision with which it was encompassed- 

Paradise Lost was completed in the year 16G5, when 
Milton was verging towards sixty. He had at that 
period been suffering for several years under the 
distressing deprivation of sight, and an acute gout, 
from the torture of which he was seldom free. His 
foitunes also had been almost continually iiuctuating, 
and he had witnessed as many domestic changes as 
fall to the lot of most men. His first wife died in 
child-bed, and he shoi^tly after man-ied the daughter 
of a Captain Woodcock, v/hom he lost in the same 
manner as he had done his former wife, before their 
nuion had been completed a year. From the unpro- 
tected state, however, to which he felt himself re- 
duced by his blindness, he was tempted to enter the 
matrimonial state again, and he manied a lady of the 
name of Minshull, who survived him. While these 
events were occurring, he changed his residence to 
every part of London, till at length he finally settled 
himself in a house in Bunhill-row- 

Several difficulties, it is said, were found to prever^t 
the publication of the Paradise Lost after its com- 
pletion. These were pai^tly owing to the power of 
the licenser, who could raise whatever objections he 
chose to the printing of any work, and partly to the 
niggardliness of the booksellers and the character of 
the public mind at the period. The latter, it is 
probable, was the greatest obstacle which an author 
in those days had to encounter. There was no 



LIFE AND WRITINGS. ix 

reading populace, no book-clubs, provincial libraries, 
or facilities tor circulating* literary works through 
the mass of the public ; intelligence was in general 
confined to the small portion of the community who 
were possessed of fortune and talents, and the pro- 
ductions of taste had, coiisequently, to wait for the 
slow succession of those select readers before they 
could obtain a decided establishment in the list of 
classical works. There were, it is true, literary pro- 
ductions in the reign of Charles the Second, which 
acquired a reputation that might be called popular, 
but they were such as appealed, by their ribaldry 
and loose sentiments, to the lowest of men's passions, 
and were, therefore, equally sure of vulgar, as of 
fashionable attention. The poetry of Milton, on the 
contrary, touched upon no topic which the lewd 
spirit of the age could relish ; it fed no unhallowed 
desire, perverted no principle of morality, and gave 
splendour to no character which was not rendered 
illustrious by holiness. The comedies of the most 
popular authors of the period, and the licentious 
verses of the wits of Charles's court, were greedily 
devoured by all classes, but no purity of taste was 
required to enjoy thenj, and no depth of thought to 
fathom their meaning. Milton's verse was a magic 
stream that had music for but few ears, and the 
levity and vicious abandonment of the times had 
degraded king, courtiers, and people, to the lowest 
character of vulgarity. Hence the comparative 
neglect which attended the original publication of 
Paradise Lost ; hence the fear of the bookseller to 
give more than five pounds for the copyright, and 
the slowness of its sale, compared with that of works 
infinitely inferior in merit. 

When, however, these circumstances are con- 
pidered, there wa^ no particular bad fortune atteniing 
the publication of this poem. It was sold, in the first 
instance, to one Simmons, a printer, and the real 
wonder is, that it was disposed of for no more than 
five pounds, with the agreement that five more 
should be paid after the sale of thirteen hundred of 
the first edition, and the same sum after the sale of 
fis many of the second ; which stipulation was also 
A 2 



X MEMOIR OF MILTON'S 

to extend to the third edition. All that Milton lived 
to receive was ten pounds, as he died tne same yeai 
the second edition was published. It ia impossible 
not to be forcibly struck with this remarkable 
circumstance, but when the peiiod in which the 
work was published, and its particular character, 
are considered, its reaching- to three editions in ten 
years is a sufficient proof that it suffered no greater 
neglect than may be accounted for by obvious 
causes. In the history of literature there is niore 
than a single instance of failure which the un- 
fortunate author could attribute only to his own bad 
luck, which resulted from his want of means to 
make his work known, or the neglect which a 
production of the greatest merit will often guffer, 
when a writer has not the advantages of a pre- 
viously acquired reputation. Many are the works of 
genius which have been permitted to pass at once 
into oblivion from some such causes as these, and 
the authors of which have pined in broken-hearted- 
ness after a reputation which they only wanted 
some favourable accident to receive, possessing thtj 
golden ore, but wanting the amalgam tliat should 
make it valuable in the world. But Milton lost not 
a particle of success in this manner ; the times were 
against him, not fortune ; and his labours were as 
amply rewarded by public fame as any author of 
such a work as Paradise Lost could have expected. 

About three years after the publication of Paradise 
Lost, the History of England, which had been written 
many years before, was printed, and in the foUovv^ing 
year, 1671, Paradise Regained and Samson Agonistes. 
The former of these poems was owing to the advice 
of Elwood, a Quaker, who had been a pupil of 
Milton's, and to whom he had shewn his larger 
work ill manuscript. On returning it the former 
observed, ' Thou hast said much of Paradise Lost, 
but what hast thou to say of Paradise Found'?' 
* He made no answer,' continues Elwood, in his 
account of this conversation, ' but sat some time in 
a muse ; then broke off that discourse, and fell upon 
another subject.' 

The temperate mode of living which Milton had 



LIFE AND WRiTIN(^S. xi 

early adox^ted, was such as is generally rewarded 
by a long- and healthy life ; but he suffered under an 
hereditary gout, and his sedentary habits and un- 
ceasing application, all contributed to weaken a 
constitution which had never been robust. Few men 
of letters either have ever suffered so greatly from 
the wear and tear of public life. From what we 
know of Milton's character there is reason to think 
that the ordinary passions of our nature were, from 
the first dawn of manhood, subdued in his bosom. 
There v/as a calmness and tranquillity, amounting 
to sternness, in his conduct and demeanour. He v/as 
sincere and constant in his friendships, but he wrote 
to and of his friends with classical precision, a'jd 
seemed to find a greater relish in the intercourse 
when the learned spirit of antiquity assisted it. 
Love of woman never warmed him sufhciently to 
make him for a moment forget the severe assertion 
of authority, and in his character of child and father 
no melting tenderness, no irresistible flow of domestic 
'oy, entered into its composition. It would, perhaps 
De refining too much, but I am inclined to think that 
this austerity of nature may be observed in the 
coldness with which he seems to have regarded the 
objects to Vv'hich private memory gives a sanctity 
and beauty. His poems are singularly devoid of any 
occasional interest derived fi'om this source. There 
are no signs of that deep rich stream of inner 
feeling which memory calls up in gentler breasts. 
We hear him vttering no lament over things which 
have passed away, because thej' were associated 
with some home-thought, or old familiar object. 
Whenever he leaves the present for the past, it is 
to hasten far beyond the bounds where history ceases 
to have a daily interest ; it was not with the gene- 
ration of his fathers, but with the patriarchs of the 
world he held communion, and when his heart 
warmed at any recollection of the past, it was his 
admiration, not his sympathy, that was awakened. 
The ordinary passions of our nature had, therefore, 
not much influence over Milton. Those which fever 
the heart had little, those which contract it had 
leas. But there was one grand and mighty feeling 



Xii MEMOIR OF MILTON'S 

^vbich kept him in a state of strong excitement 
"when every other was subdued ; it was his ardent 
love of freedom, his lofty aspiration after a liberty 
which should render all men equal by exalting all. 
Amid his tranquil meditations, in the loneliest retire- 
ment of his home, when oppressed with care and 
blindness, and wearied with the vicissitudes of fortune 
this passion was still as burning- as in his earliest 
youth ; the evil days and times on which he waa 
fallen bowed his spirit, but diminished not its thirst 
for freedom; and when he saw his fondest hopes 
disappointed in the destruction of the commonwealth, 
he appears to have cherished a bitterness of feeling, 
as well as a heavy wearing sorrow, that must have 
materially assisted in shortening his days. The death 
of this illustrious man took place on the 10th of 
November, 1G74, at his residence in Bunhill-row. He 
was buried in St. Giles's, Cripplegate, in the chancel 
of the church, and the funeral was attended by a 
great number of noblemen, as well as by a large 
concourse of the populace. In 1737 a monument wao 
raised to his memory in Westminster Abbey, and a 
few years back another small one was placed in the 
church where he lies interred. 

Milton's person is described as of the middle size, 
and his countenance as remarkable for mildness and 
beauty of expression. When at Cambridge, he was 
called the lady of Christ's College, and there is an 
anecdote told of his having captivated, by his singular 
beauty, the heart of some unknown female of rank, 
who happened to see him sleeping under a tree. In 
his advanced age he suffered so acutely that his 
hands became almost deformed with chalk stones, 
and his face of a sickly paleness. His habits were, 
as it has been said, extremely temperate, and those 
of a diligent student, to the last year of his life. He 
was accustomed to retire to rest about nine, and to 
rise at four in the summer and five in winter. The 
first thing which he did on getting up, v/as to hear 
a chapter of the Hebrew Bible read to him ; he then 
studied the subjects he was occupied upon till twelve, 
after which he took an hour's exercise, and then 
dined. With playing on the organ, an hour or two's 



LIFE ANU WRITINGS. xiii 

further study, and the evening'^ conversation with 
his fiiends, the remainder of the day was concluded, 
and having eaten a few olives, smoked his pipe, 
and drunk a glass of water, he retired to rest. 

Milton had five children ; four by his first and one 
by his second wife ; of these, the three daughters 
whom he had by the former survived him, the 
others died in infancy. The last surviving of the 
daughters died in August, 1727. She was married 
to a Spitalfields' weaver of the name of Clarke, by 
whom she had seven sons and three daughters. Of 
these only two had children; and there is at present 
uo lineal descendant of the poet living. 

But I turn from this brief review of the poet's 
life to as brief a consideration of the magnificent 
talents by which his immortality is established. 
The genius of Milton has not yet, perhaps, met with 
its proper observer. His great fame has made him 
too sacred an object in the eyes of general readers 
to let them think of any thing but implicit venera- 
tion ; and the men of letters who have been pro- 
fessedly his critics, have been more intent on cor- 
recting or illustrating the text by their learning 
than on unfolding the veil which partially hides the 
grandeur and uncomprehended beauty of all true 
poetry. Almost the only one among them who has 
written with the express purpose of employing a 
more general and philosophical species of criticism 
is Addison, a man of elegant taste and accom- 
plished mind, hut possessing little of that depth of 
thought, or vigour of intellect, which is necessary 
to the character of a critic. Johnson, again, strong 
as was his mind, was as little fitted for the ofiice 
he had assumed ; for he was as deficient in depth 
of perception and feeling as Addison was in intel- 
lectual power. Much, therefore, as has been done 
towards illustrating the works of Milton, the praise 
or blame he has received has not proceeded from 
any very elevated principles of criticism. 

Milton is the most learned of our English poets. 

There is no work of either this or any other country 

on which so much profound erudition has been 

expended as on Paradise Lost. The learning of all 

A3 



xiv MEMOIR OF MILTON'S 

ages, the opinions of the wisest men, the supersti- 
tions of the most benighted nations, the truths of 
pliilosophy and science, aiid the most solemn mys- 
teries of religion, were all explored by the great 
author, and he poured out the whole vast treasure 
of his mind into the golden vase his imagination 
had formed. But to decide upon the true character 
of his genius, we must not be content with the 
examination of his larger works. They were com- 
posed after his mind was more than furnished, after 
it w^as enveloped with learning ; and it is some- 
times, therefore, not clear whether knowledge have 
not mastered thought instead of being its auxiliary. 
From the earlier poems of Milton we are able to 
discover, with some degree of certainty, the prin- 
cipal and original characteristics of his genius. In 
them we trace the love of truth, the creative ima- 
gination, the power over language, which form the 
featiwes of his subsequent productions. But we see 
them in their origin. With him the love of truth 
was the offspring of a tranquil but noble soul, and 
from the dawning of his mind it was the object he 
most earnestly sought. But he sought it chiefly 
among books, or among those who derived their 
materials of thinking solely from them. The fashion 
of the times was not in favour of original thinking, 
and hence he, like the other great men of the 
period, principally employed himself in heaping 
together all the knowledge which the accumulated 
learning of ages could afford. One consequence of 
this was the subjection of passion, thought, and 
feeling, to memory; and there is, therefore, to be 
discovered no beauty of a sentimental kind, even in 
his freshest and earliest poems. The same cause 
will also account for the absence of that heart- 
reaching, spiritual eloquence with which poetry 
sometimes awakens us. There are scarcely any 
thoughts to be found in Milton which can be 
ascribed to his sympathy with individual suffering, 
or to his consideration of human nature in its simple 
but deep workings. He gave himself no time for 
this unincumbered view of humanity. He sought 
the true philosophy of nature, but it was in the 



LIFE AND WRITINGS. xv 

history of sects and kingdoms ; and he learnt to 
excite wonder hut not passion. Whatever, there- 
fore, might have been the tendencies of his nature 
truth in his poetry is a reflected not primitive 
truth ; the truth which learning searches for and 
discovers, not what every heart feels and recognises. 

But Milton possessed an imagination of the highest 
order; an imagination which could combine or 
create at will the noblest objects of contemplation. 
His early poet is sufiiciently attest the energy of this 
divine power in his mind. The classical style of 
his verses never affect its originality ; and they run 
like a stream of light and beauty wherever the 
imagination is free to operate. All the other facul- 
ties of his intellect received their tone from this. 
His power of description was raised by it into a 
creative faculty; the objects of memory passed 
through it, and became godlike and eternal. It 
elevated his thoughts to other worlds of beings, 
which it alone could make visible ; and reason in 
her severest moods was led by it to take her weapons 
from the splendid and ethereal armoury of poetry. In 
Comus, the Allegro, and Penseroso, and the religious 
Odes, we see all this power of the imagination 
operating, but producing only beautiful and holy 
forms ; we are entertained with the sight of nature 
suffused with heavenly light, with the discourse of 
bright and spiritual beings, and with the view of 
past scenes, over which hangs the cloud of divine 
glory. All here is fresh and spring-like. The poet's 
imagination was a bird of Paradise, that had not 
strength of wing to explore the dark world beyond it. 

When years, continued study, and experience of 
the world, had altered the general tone of his feel- 
ings, this distinguishing power of his genius as- 
sumed, with increasing strength^ a severer character. 
The world of interminable being was all before it, 
and it chose out of the tremendous wilderness of 
space the most fearful spot it could discover. Here 
it rejoiced in its power. The great void grew in- 
stinct with life. The universe of thought became 
substantial, and night and ruin stood palpably dis- 
tinct in the outflooding and creating light of heaven. 



xvi MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

No mortal ever saw that vision so distinct as Milton, 
and seeing it he could but write as he did. His 
imagination was a sense, not the result of emotion. 
It was from sight, not feeling, his inspiration came, 
and hence the grandeur, but coldness, of his genius 
—the distinctness and reality of his creations— the 
cramped scholasticism of his philosophy. 

There are other points of a minor but highly in- 
teresting nature in considering the genius of Milton. 
His deficiency of passion was the only element 
which was wanting to the perfection of his poetic 
character. When we examine it in respect to every 
other, we find it full and complete ; perfect, not only 
in the higher and rarer requisites of genius, but in 
those lighter qualities from which inferior minds 
derive their sole claim to consideration. Milton 
had as perfect a knowledge of the art of poetry as 
any cold, formal writer of verses, who has no other 
means of gaining respectability. He had also an 
equal degree of judgment in arranging the different 
parts of his subject, and while there v/as no species 
of learning which he had not pursued, there was 
no, not even the commonest kind of, information 
which he could not accommodate, with the nicest 
skill, to his purpose. But of all these minor features 
of his genius, that which most deserves considera- 
tion is the exquisite power he possessed over every 
kind of metre. The versification of his shorter 
poems is the most beautiful specimen we possess of 
the music of our language. The blank metre of 
Paradise Lost is more various, more rich in the 
melody of cadences, than that of any other English 
poem. This, perhaps, is owing to a circumstance 
not generally observed, that Milton is almost the 
only writer in blank verse who had previously made 
himself a perfect master of rhyme and the rhyming 
measures. 



DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY 



POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON 



In speaking of the intellectual qualities of Mil- 
ton, we may begin with observing, that the very 
splendour of his poetic fame has tended to obscure 
or conceal the extent of his mind, and the variety 
of its energies and attainments. To many he 
seems only a poet, when in truth he was a pro- 
found scholar, a man of vast compass of thought, 
imbued thoroughly with all ancient and, modern 
learning, and able to master, to mould, to impreg- 
nate with his own intellectual power, his great a.nd 
various acquisitions. He had not learned the 
superficial doctrine of a later day, — that poetry 
flourishes most in an uncultivated soil, and that 
imagination shapes its brightest visions from the 
mists of a superstitious age ; and he had no dread 
of accumulating knowledge, lest it should oppress 
and smother his genius. He was conscious of that 
within him, which could quicken all knowledge, 
and wield it with ease and might ; which could 
give freshness to old truths, and harmony to dis- 
cordant thoughts ; which could bind together by 



2* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 

living ties and mysterious affinities the most remote 
discoveries ; and rear fabrics of glory and beauty 
from the rude materials which other minds had 
collected. Milton had that universality which 
marks the highest order of intellect. Though 
accustomed almost from infancy to drink at the 
fountains of classical literature, he had nothing of 
the pedantry and fastidiousness which disdain all 
other draughts. His healthy mind delighted in 
genius, on whatever soil or in whatever age it burst 
forth and poured out its fulness. He understood 
too well the rights, and dignity, and pride of crea- 
tive imagination, to lay on it the laws of the Greek 
or Roman school. Parnassus was not to him the 
only holy ground of genius. He felt that poetry 
was as a universal presence. Great minds were 
every where his kindred. He felt the enchant- 
ment of Oriental fiction, surrendered himself to the 
strange creations of * Araby the blest,' and de- 
lighted still more in the romantic spirit of chivalry, 
and in the tales of wonder in which it was embodied. 
Accordingly his poetry reminds us of the ocean, 
which adds to its own boundlessness contributions 
from all regions under heaven. Nor was it only 
in the department of imagination, that his acqui- 
sitions were vast. He travelled over the whole 
field of knowledge, as far as it had then been 
explored. His various philological attainments 
were used to put him in possession of the wisdom 
stored in all countries, where the intellect had beeu 



THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *3 

cultivated. The natural philosophy, metaphysics, 
ethics, history, theology and political science of his 
own and former times, were familiar to him. 
Never was there a more unconfined mind, and we 
would cite Milton as a practical example of tha 
benefits of that universal culture of intellect, 
which forms one distinction of our times, bu. 
which some dread as unfriendly to original thought. 
Let such remember, that mind is in its own nature 
difiTusive. Its object is the universe, which is 
strictly one, or bound together by infinite con- 
nexions and correspondences 5 and accordingly its 
natural progress is from one to another field cf 
thought ; and wherever original power, creative 
genius exists, the mind, far from being distracted 
or oppressed by the variety of its acquisitions, will 
see more and more common bearings and hidden 
and beautiful analogies in all the objects of know- 
ledge, will see mutual light shed from truth to 
truth, and will compel, as with a kingly power, 
whatever it understands, to yield some tribute of 
proof, or illustration, or splendour, to whatever 
topic it would unfold. 

Milton's fame rests chiefly on his poetry, and to 
this we naturally give our first attention. By 
those v^ho are accustomed to speak of poetry as 
light reading, Milton's eminence in this sphere 
may be considered only as giving him a high rank 
among the contributors to public amusement. 
Not so thought Milton. Of all God's gifts of 



•HI. 



DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 



intellect, he esteemed poetical genius the most 
transcendent. He esteemed it in himself as a kind 
of inspiration, and wrote his great works with 
something of the conscious dignity of a prophet. 
We agree with Milton in his estimate of poetry. 
It seems to us the divinest of all arts ; for it is the 
breathing or expression of that principle or senti- 
ment, which is deepest and sublimest in human 
nature ; we mean of that thirst or aspiration, to 
which no mind is wholly a stranger, for something 
purer and lovelier, something more powerful, lofty, 
and thrilling, than ordinary and real life affords. 
No doctrine is more common among Christians 
than that of man's immortality ; but it is not so 
generally understood, that the germs or principles 
of his whole future being are now wrapped up in 
his soul, as the rudiments of the future plant in 
the seed. As a necessary result of this constitu- 
tion, the soul, possessed and moved by these 
mighty though infant energies, is perpetually 
stretching beyond what is present and visible, 
struggling against the bounds of its earthly prison- 
house, and seeking relief and joy in imaginings of 
unseen and ideal being. This view of our nature, 
which has never been fully developed, and which 
goes further towards explaining the contradictions 
of human life than all others, carries us to the very 
foundation and sources of poetry. He, who can- 
not interpret by his own consciousness what we 
now have said, wants the true key to works of 



THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *5 

genius. He has not penetrated those sacred 
recesses of the soul, where poetry is born and 
nourished, and inhales immortal vigour, and 
wings herself for her heavenward flight. In an 
intellectual nature framed for progress and for 
higher modes of being, there must be creative 
energies, powers of original and ever-growing- 
thought ; and poetry is the form in which these 
energies are chiefly manifested. It is the glorious 
prerogative of this art, that it * makes all things new' 
for the gratification of a divine instinct. It indeed 
finds its elements in what it actually sees and ex- 
periences,: in the worlds of matter and mind ; bu< 
it combines and blends these into new forms and 
according to new aflinities ; breaks down, if we 
may so say, the distinctions and bounds of nature • 
imparts to material objects life, and sentiment^ 
and emotion, and invests the mind with the powers 
and splendours of the outward creation ; describes 
the surrounding universe in the colours which the 
passions throw over it, and depicts the mind in 
those modes of repose or agitation, of tenderness 
or sublime emotion, which manifest its thirst for a 
more powerful and joyful existence. To a man of 
a literal and prosaic character, the mind may seem 
lawless in these workings; but it observes higher 
laws than it transgresses, the laws of the immortal 
intellect ; it is trying and developing its best 
faculties ; and in the objects which it describes, or 
in the emotions which it awakens, anticipates 
A2 



6* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 

those states of progressive power, splendour, 
beauty, and happiness, for which it was created. 

We accordingly believe that poetry, far from 
injuring society, is one of the great instruments of 
its refinement and exaltation. It lifts the mind 
above ordinary life, gives it a respite from depress- 
ing cares, and awakens the consciousness of its 
affinity with what is pure and noble. In its 
legitimate and highest efforts, it has the same 
tendency and aim with Christianity; that is, to 
spiritualize our nature. True, poetry has been 
made the instrument of vice, the pander of bad 
passions ; but when genius thus stoops, it dims its 
fires, and parts with much of its power ; and even 
when poetry is enslaved to licentiousness or mis- 
anthropy, she cannot wholly forget her true voca- 
tion. Strains of pure feeling, touches of tender- 
ness, images of innocent happiness, sympathies 
with suffering virtue, bursts of scorn or indignation 
at the hollowness of the world, passages true to 
our moral nature, often escape in an immoral work, 
and shew us how hard it is for a gifted spirit to 
divorce itself wholly from what is good. Poetry 
has a natural alliance with our best affections. 
It delights in the beauty and sublimity of the 
outward creation and of the soul. It indeed 
portrays with terrible energy the excesses of the 
passions ; but they are passions which shew a 
mighty nature, which are full of power, which 
command awe, and excite a deep though shudder- 



THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *7 

mg sympathy. Its great tendency and purpose is, 
to carry the mind beyond and above the beaten, 
dusty, weary walks of ordinary life ; to lift it into 
a purer element, and to breathe into it more pro- 
found and generous emotion. It reveals to us 
the loveliness of nature, brings back the freshness 
of youthful feeling, revives the relish of simple 
pleasures, keeps unquenched the enthusiasm which 
warmed the spring-time of our being, refines youth- 
ful love, strengthens our interest in human nature 
by vivid delineations of its tenderest and loftiest 
feelings, spreads our sympathies over all classes of 
society, knits us by new ties with universal being, 
and through the brightness of its prophetic visions 
helps faith to lay hold on the future life. 

We are aware, that it is objected to poetry, that 
it gives wrong views and excites false expectations 
of life, peoples the mind with shadows and illusions, 
and builds up imagination on the ruins of wisdom. 
That there is a wisdom, against which poetry wars, 
the wisdom of the senses, which makes physical 
comfort and gratification the supreme good, and 
wealth the chief interest of life, we do not deny ; 
nor do we deem it the least service which poetry 
renders to mankind, that it redeems them from the 
thraldom of this earthborn prudence. But, passing 
over this topic, we would observe, that the com- 
plaint against poetry as abounding in illusion and 
deception, is in the main groundless. In many 
poems there is more of truth than m many histories 



8* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 

and philosophic theories. The fictions of genius 
are often the vehicles of the sublimest verities, and 
its flashes often open new regions of thought, and 
throw new light on the mysteries of our being. 
In poetry the letter is falsehood, but the spirit is 
often profoundest wisdom. And if truth thus 
dwells in the boldest fictions of the poet, much 
more may it be expected in his delineations of life ; 
for the present life, which is the first stage of the 
immortal mind, abounds in the materials of poetry, 
and it is the high office of the bard to detect this 
divine element among the grosser labours and 
pleasures of our earthly being. The present life 
is not wholly prosaic, precise, tame and finite. To 
the gifted eye, it abounds in the poetic. The 
aflfections which spread beyond ourselves and 
stretch far into futurity ; the workings of mighty 
passions, which seem to arm the soul with an 
almost superhuman energy ; the innocent and 
irrepressible joy of infancy ; the bloom, and 
buoyancy, and dazzling hopes, of youth ; the 
throbbings of the heart, when it first wakes to 
love, and dreams of a happiness too vast for earth ; 
woman, with her beauty, and grace, and gentle- 
ness, and fulness of feeling, and depth of aflPection, 
and her blushes of purity, and the tones and looks 
which only a mother's heart can inspire ;— these 
are all poetical. It is not true that the poet paints 
a life which does not exist. He only extracts and 
concentrates, as it were, life's ethereal essence. 



THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *9 

arrests and condenses its volatile fragrance, brings 
together its scattered beauties, and prolongs its 
more refined but evanescent joys ; and in this he 
does well ; for it is good to feel that life is not 
wholly usurped by cares for subsistence, and 
physical gratifications, but admits, in measures 
which may be indefinitely enlarged, sentiments 
and delights worthy of a higher being. This 
power of poetry to refine our views of life and 
happiness is more and more needed as society 
advances. It is needed to withstand the encroach- 
ments of heartless and artificial manners, which 
make civilization so tame and uninteresting. It 
is needed to counteract the tendency of physical 
science, which being now sought, not as formerly 
for intellectual gratification, but for multiplying 
bodily comforts, requires a new developement of 
imagination, taste and poetry, to preserve men 
from sinking into an earthly, material, epicurean 
life. — Our remarks in vindication of poetry have 
extended beyond our original design. They have 
had a higher aim than to assert the dignity of 
Milton as a poet, and that is, to endear and re- 
commend this divine art to all who reverence and 
vi^ould cultivate and refine their nature. 

In delineating Milton's character as a poet, we 
are saved the necessity of looking far for its dis- 
tinguishing attributes. His name is almost iden- 
tified with sublimity. He is in truth the sublimest 



10* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 

of men. He rises, not by effort or discipline, bu* 
by a native tendency and a godlike instinct, to 
the contemplation of objects of grandeur and 
awfulness. He always moves with a conscious 
energy. There is no subject so vast or terrific, as 
to repel or intimidate him. The overpowering 
grandeur of a theme kindles and attracts him. He 
enters on the description of the infernal regions 
with a fearless tread, as if he felt within himself a 
power to erect the prison-house of fallen spirits, 
to encircle them with flames and horrors worthy 
of their crimes, to call forth from them shouts 
which should * tear hell's concave,' and to embody 
in their Chief an Archangel's energies and a 
Demon's pride and hate. Even the stupendous 
conception of Satan seems never to oppress his 
faculties. This character of power runs through 
all Milton's works. His descriptions of nature 
shew a free and bold hand. He has no need of 
the minute, graphic skill, which we prize in 
Cowper or Crabbe. With a few strong or delicate 
touches, he impresses, as it were, his own mind on 
the scenes which he would describe, and kindles 
the imagination of the gifted reader to clothe them 
with the same radiant hues under which they ap- 
peared to his own. 

This attribute of power is universally felt to 
characterize Milton. His sublimity is in every 
man's mouth. Is it felt that his poetry breathes a 
sensibility and tenderness hardly surpassed by its 



THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *!! 

sublimity? We apprehend that the grandeur of 
Milton's mind has thrown some shade over his 
milder beauties ; and this it has done not only by 
being more striking and imposing, but by the 
tendency of vast mental energy to give a certain 
calmness to the expression of tenderness and deep 
feeling. A great mind is the master of its own 
enthusiasm, and does not often break out into 
those tumults, vi^hich pass with many for the signs 
of profound emotion. Its sensibility, though more 
intense and enduring, is more self-possessed, and 
less perturbed, than that of other men, and is 
therefore less observed and felt, except by those 
who understand, through their own consciousness, 
the workings and utterance of genuine feeling. 
We might quote pages in illustration of the qua- 
lities here ascribed to Milton. Turn to Comus, 
one of his earliest productions. What sensibility 
breathes in the descriptions of the benighted Lady's 
singing, by Comus and the Spirit ! 



Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould 
Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment? 
Sure something holy lodges in that breast. 
And with these raptures moves the vocal air 
To testify his hidden residence : 
How sweetly did they float upon the wings 
Of silence, through the empty-vaulted nighty 
At every fall smoothing the raven down 
Of darkness till it smiled ! I have oft heard 



12* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY OW 

My mother Circe with the Sirens three. 

Amidst the flow'ry-kirtled Naiades, 

Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs, 

Who, as they sung-, would take the prison'd soul, 

And lap it in Elysium ; Scylla wept, 

And chid her barking waves into attention. 

And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause . 

Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense. 

And in sweet madness robb'd it of itself; 

But such a sacred and home-felt delight. 

Such sober certainty of waking bliss, 

I never heard till now. 

Lines 244—264. 



At last a soft and solemn -breathing sound 
Rose like a steam of rich distill'd perfumes. 
And stole upon the air, that even Silence 
Was took ere she was ware, and wish'd she might 
Deny her nature, and be never more. 
Still to be so displaced. I was all ear. 
And took in strains that might create a soul 
Under the ribs of Death. 

Liaes 555—563. 

In illustration of Milton's tenderness, we will 
open almost at a venture. 

Now morn, her rosy steps in th' eastern clime 
idvancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, 
VVhen Adam waked, so custom'd, for his sleep 
/Vas aery-light, from pure digestion bred, 
A.nd temp'rate vapours bland, which th' only sound 
Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan. 
Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song 
Of birds on every bough ; so much the more 



THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. M3 

His wonder was to find unwaken*d Eve 
With tresses discomposed, and g^lowing cheek 
As through unquiet rest : he on his side 
Leaning half-raised, with looks of cordial love 
Hung- over her en amour 'd, and beheld 
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, 
Shot forth peculiar graces ; then with voice 
Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes. 
Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus ; Awake, 
My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, 
Heav'n's last best gift, my ever new delight, 
Awake : the morning shines, and the fresh field 
Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring 
Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove. 
What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed. 
How nature paints her colours, how the bee 
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet. 

Par. Lost, b. v. lines 1 — 25. 

So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheer'd» 
But silently a gentle tear let fall 
From either eye, and wiped them with her hair; 
Two other precious drops that ready stood. 
Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell 
Kiss'd, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse 
And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended. 

Ibid. b. V. lines 129—135. 

From this very imperfect view of the qualities 
of Milton's poetry, we hasten to his great work. 
Paradise Lost, perhaps the noblest monument of 
human genius. The two first books, by universal 
consent, stand pre-eminent in sublimity. Hell 
and Hell's King have a terrible harmony, and 
dilate into new grandeur and aw fulness, the longer 



14* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 

we contemplate them. From one element, * solid 
and liquid fire,' the poet has framed a world of 
horror and suffering, such as imagination had never 
traversed. But fiercer flames, than those wliicii 
encompass Satan, burn in his own soul, llevenge, 
exasperated pride, consuming wrath, ambition 
though fallen, yet unconquered by the thunders of 
the Omnipotent, and grasping still at the empire 
of the universe, — these form a picture more sublime 
and terrible than Hell. Hell yields to the spirit 
which it imprisons. The intensity of its fires re- 
veals the intenser passions and more vehement 
will of Satan ; and the ruined Archangel gathers 
into himself the sublimity of the scene which sur- 
rounds him. This forms the tremendous interest 
of these wonderful books. We see mind tri- 
umphant over the most terrible powers of nature. 
We see unutterable agony subdued by energy of 
soul. We have not indeed in Satan those bursts 
of passion, which rive the soul as well as shatter 
the outward frame of Lear. But we have a depth 
of passion which only an Archangel could manifest. 
The all-enduring, all-defying pride of Satan, as- 
suming so majestically Hell's burning throne, and 
coveting the diadem, which scorches his thunder- 
blasted brow, is a creation requiring in its author 
almost the spiritual energy with which he invests 
the fallen seraph. Some have doubted whether 
the moral effect of such delineations of the storms 
and terrible workings of the soul is good j whether 



THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *L5 

the interest felt in a spirit so transcendent.ly evil as 
Satan, favours our sympathies with virtue. But 
our interest fastens, in this and like cases, on what 
is not evil. We gaze on Satan with an awe not 
unmixed with mysterious pleasure, as on a mira- 
culous manifestation of the power of mind. What 
chains us, as with a resistless spell, in such a 
character, is spiritual might made visible by the 
racking pains which it overpowers. There is 
something kindling and ennobling in the conscious- 
ness, however awakened, of the energy which re- 
sides in mind ; and many a virtuous man has 
borrowed new strength from the force, constancy, 
and dauntless courage, of evil agents. 

Milton's description of Satan attests in various 
ways the power of his genius. Critics have often 
observed, that the great difficulty of his work was 
to reconcile the spiritual properties of his super- 
natural beings with the human modes of existence, 
which he was obliged to ascribe to them ; and the 
difficulty is too great for any genius wholly to 
overcome, and we must acknowledge that our 
enthusiasm is in some parts of the poem checked 
by a feeling of incongruity between the spiritual 
agent, and his sphere and mode of agency. But 
we are visited with no such chilling doubts and 
misgivings in the description of Satan in Hell. 
Imagination has here achieved its highest triumph, 
in imparting a character of reality and truth to its 
most daring creations. That world of horrors, 



16* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 

though material, is yet so remote from our ordinary 
nature, that a spiritual being, exiled from heaven, 
finds there an appropriate home. There is, too, 
an indefinileness in the description of Satan's per- 
son, which incites without shocking the imagina- 
tion, and aids us to combine in our conception of 
him the massiness of a real form with the vague- 
ness of spiritual existence. To the production of 
this effect, much depends on the first impression 
given by the poet ; for this is apt to follow us 
through the whole work ; and here we think 
Milton eminently successful. The first glimpse of 
Satan is given us in the following lines, which, 
whilst too indefinite to provoke the scrutiny of the 
reason, fill the imagination of the reader with a 
form which can hardly be effaced. 

Thus Satan, talkin|^ to his nearest mate 
With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes 
That sparkling- blazed, his other parts besides 
Prone on the flood, extended long- and large, 
Lay floating many a rood, * * * 

Par. Lost, b. i. lines 192—190. 

Forthwith upright he rears from off" the pool 
His mighty stature ; on each hand the flames. 
Driven backward, slope their pointing spires, and roll'd 
In billows, leave i' th* midst a horrid vale. 

Ibid. 221—224. 

We have more which we should gladly say of 
the delineation of Satan ; especially of the glimpses 
which are now and then given of his deep anguish 



THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *17 

and despair, and of the touches of better feelings 
which are skilfully thrown into the dark picture, 
both suited and designed to blend with our admi- 
ration, dread, and abhorrence, a measure of that 
sympathy and interest with which every living, 
thinking being ought to be regarded, and without 
which all other feelings tend to sin and pain. 
But there is another topic which we cannot leave 
untouched. From Hell we flee to Paradise, a 
region as lovely as Hell is terrible, and which to 
those who do not know the universality of true 
genius, will appear doubly wonderful, when con- 
sidered as the creation of the same mind which 
had painted the infernal world. 

Paradise and its inhabitants are in sweet ac- 
cordance, and together form a*scene of tranquil 
bliss, which calms and soothes, whilst it delights, 
the imagination. Adam and Eve, just moulded 
by the hand, and quickened by the breath of God, 
reflect in their countenances and forms, as well as 
minds, the intelligence, benignity, and happiness 
of their author. Their new existence has the 
freshness and peacefulness of the dewy morning. 
Their souls, unsated and untainted, find an inno- 
cent joy in the youthful creation, which spreads 
and smiles around them. Their mutual love is 
deep, for it is the love of young, unworn, unex- 
hausted hearts, which meet in each other the only 
human objects on whom to pour forth their fulness 
of affection ; and still it is serene, for it is the love 



18* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY O^ 

of happy beings, who know not suffering even by 
name, whose innocence excludes not only the 
tumults but the thought of jealousy and shame, 
who, * imparadised in one another's arms,' scarce 
dream of futurity, so blessed is their present being. 
We will not say that we envy our first parents ; 
for we feel that there may be higher happiness 
than theirs, a happiness won through struggle with 
inward and outward foes, the happiness of power 
and moral victory, the happiness of disinterested 
sacrifices and wide-spread love, the happiness of 
boundless hope, and of * thoughts which wander 
through eternity.' Still there are times, when the 
spirit, oppressed with pain, worn with toil, tired of 
tumult J sick at the sight of guilt, wounded in its 
love, baffled in itsliope, and trembling in its faith, 
almost longs for the * wings of a dove, that it might 
fly away' and take refuge amidst the * shady 
bowers,' the * vernal airs,' the * roses without 
thorns,' the quiet, the beauty, the loveliness, of 
Eden. It is the contrast of this deep peace of 
Paradise with the storms of life, which gives to the 
fourth and fifth books of this poem a charm so 
irresistible, that not a few would sooner relinquish 
the two first books with all their sublimity, than 
part with these. It has sometimes been said that 
the English language has no good pastoral poetry. 
We would ask, in what age or country has the 
pastoral reed breathed such sweet strains as are 
borne to us on * the odoriferous wings of gentle 
gales' from Milton's Paradise 1 



THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *19 

We should not fulfil our duty, were we not to 
say one word on what has been justly celebrated, 
the harmony of Milton's versification. His numbers 
Lave the prime charm of expressiveness. They 
vary with, and answer lo, the depth, or tenderness, 
or sublimity, of his conceptions, and hold intimate 
alliance with the soul. Like Michael Angelo, in 
whose hands the marble was said to be flexible, he 
bends our language, which foreigners reproach 
with hardness, into whatever forms the subject 
demands. All the treasures of sweet and solemn 
sound are at his command. Words, harsh and 
discordant in the writings of less gifted m.en, flow 
through his poetry in a full stream of harmony. 
This power over language is not to be ascribed to 
Milton's musical ear. It belongs to the soul. It 
is a gift or exercise of genius, which has power to 
impress itself on whatever it touches, and finds or 
frames in sounds, motions, and material forms, 
correspondences and harmonies with its own fervid 
thoughts and feelings. 

W^e close our remarks on Milton's poetry with 
observing, that it is characterized by seriousness. 
Great and various as are its merits, it does not 
discover all the variety of genius, which we find in 
Shakspeare, whose imagination revelled equally in 
regions of mirth, beauty, and terror, now evoking 
spectres, now sporting with fairies, and now ' as- 
cending the highest heaven of invention.' Milton 
was cast on times too solemn and eventful, was 



20* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY, &c. 

called to take part in transactions too perilous, 
and had too perpetual need of the presence of 
high thoughts and motives, to indulge himself in 
light and gay creations, even had his genius been 
more flexible and sportive. But Milton's poetry, 
though habitually serious, is always healthful, and 
bright, and vigorous. It has no gloom. He took 
no pleasure in dravv^ing dark pictures of life ; for 
he knew by experience, that there is a power in 
the soul to transmute calamity into an occasion 
and nutriment of moral power and triumphant 
virfuc . We find no where in his writings that 
Wi Ui-ig sensibility and exaggeration of morbid 
feeling, which makes so much of modern poetry 
effeminating. If he is not gay, he is not spirit- 
broken. His L'AllegTO proves, that he understood 
thoroughly the bright and joyous aspects of nature ; 
and in his Penseroso, where he was tempted to 
accumulate images of gloom, we learn that the 
saddest views which he took of creation, are such 
as inspire only pensive musia,^ or lofty contem- 
plation. 



PARADISE LOST. 



BOOK 1. 



THE ARGUMENI. 

This First Book proposes, first, in brief, the whole subject, Man's 
disobedieiice, and tlie loss theieupoii of Paradise, wherein he was 
plai-ed : tiien touches the prime cause of his fall, the Serpent, or 
rather Satan in the serpent; who revoltinp- from God, and draw- 
ing to his side UKUiy leg-ions of Angels, was, by the command of 
God, driven out of Heaven, with ail nis crew, into the great deep. 
Which action passed over, the poem hastens into the midst of 
tiiiiiirs, presei>tin<}f Satan with his Angels now fallen into Hell, 
desciibtd liere, not in tlie centre (for Heaven and Earth may he 
supposed as yet not nrade, certainly not yet accursed) but 'n a 
l-'iace of utter darkness, fitiiest called Chaos: here Satan wii is 
Anjreis lying: on the burning' lake, thunderstruck an*i astooi ed, 
after a certain space recovers, as from confusion, calls u." iijm 
who next in order and dignity lay by him ; they confer of their 
miserable fall. Satan awakens all his legions, who lay till then 
in the same manner confounded: they rise, their numbers, array 
of buttle, their chief leaders nau'ed, according to the idols known 
afterward in Canaan and the countries adjoiinng. To these Satan 
directs iiis speech, comforts them with hope yet of regaining 
Fieaven, but tells them lastly of a new world and new kind of 
creature to be created, according to an ancient prophecy or re- 
port in Heaven; for that Angels were long- before this visible 
creation, w;)s the opinion of many ancient fatiiers. To find out 
the truth of this prophecy, and what to determine thereon, he 
refers to a full council. What his associates thence attempt. 
Pandemoniimi, the palace of Satan, rises, S4iddenly built out oi 
the deep: the infernal peers there sit in council. 

/'YF man's first disobedience, and the fruit 

^"^ Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 

Brought death into the world, and all our woe. 

With loss of Eden, till one greater man 

Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, 5 

1. The fitness and exrpiisite beauty of this introduction to the 
poem cannot be too much admired. The classical taste and re- 
iigjniis feelings of the author are both evidenced in it ; the former 
by the simplicity with which the subject is stated and the invocE- 
tion of the muse, and the la ttr by his addressing the Holy Spirit 
as the source of inspiration and light. Great admiration has been 
expressed by the different commentators on the skilful construc- 
tion of thes.v»'r!^e in these introductory lines, the pauses of which 
are so varied as to give a most musical effect to the whole passaare. 

4. St has been supfiosed that Milton intimated in this expressfon 
his idea of writing Paradise Rt^gained, but it appears to have been 
suggested merely by the subject of his present contemp'ation. 



18 PARADISE LOST. 

Sing Heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top 

Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire 

That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed 

In the beginning-, how the heav'ns and earth 

Rose out of Chaos. Or if Sion hill 10 

Deliglit thee more, and Siloa's brook that flow'd 

Fatt by the oracle of God ; 1 thence 

Invoke t/iy aid to my advent'rous song. 

That with no middle flight intends to soar 

Above th' Aonian mount, while it pursues 15 

Things unattempted yet, in prose or rhyme. 

And chiefly Thou, O Sp'rit, that dost prefer 

Before ail temples th' upright heart and pure, 

Instruct me, for Thou know'st : Thou from the first 

Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread 20 

Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast ab^-ss. 

And mad'st it pregnant. What in me is dark 

Illumine, what is low raise and support ; 

That to the height of this great argument 

1 may assert eternal Providence, iS 

And justify the ways of God to Men. 

Say first, for Heav'n hides nothing from thy view, 
Nor the deep tract of Hell ; say first what cause 
Moved our grand parents, in that happy state, 
Favour'd of Heav'n so highly, to fall off 30 

From their Creator, r^nd trangress his will 
For one restraint, lords of the world besides ? 
Who first seduced them to that foul revolt? 
Th' infernal Serpent: he it was whose guile, 
Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceived 35 

The mother of mankind, what time his pride 
Had cast him out tVom Heav'n, with all his host 
Of rebel Angels ; by whose aid aspiring 

6. Bentley proposed the chang-in<r of this epithet into sacred, 
but his opinion lias been suoces^fiiUy confuted, it having' been 
nhevvn that the former word is peculiarly applicable to Oreb or 
Sinai, which had been so awfully ob^:;cured at the gi^ing• of tl)e law. 

8. Moses; who, wc are toid, Exod. iii. 1. kept the tiock of 
Jethro his futlier-in-hiw. 

11. Siloa was a fountain flowing- near the temple of Jerusalem. 

15. Th' Aonian mount; tlie classical seat, of the Muses. 

16. It lias been supposed ti.at Milton took tiie idea of writina: a 
poem on the loss of Paradise, fioni an Ital'ian tra<^edy called * II 
Paradise Perso,' but little wcig-ht can be placed on this opinion, 
when it is considered that both his a-enius and the most favourite 
of his studies led him contiiiuaily to relig-ious coniempiatioa. 



BOOK 1. 19 

To set himself m g-lory 'bove iiis peers, 

He trusted to haA-e equall'd the Most High, 40 

If he opposed; and with aiiibitious aim 

Against the throne and monarchy of God, 

Raised impious war in Heav'n, and battle proud 

With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Fower 

Hurl'd headlong- llaming from th' ethereal sky, 4fi 

With hideous ruin and combustion, down 

To bottomless perdition ; there to dwell 

in adamantine chains and penal fire, 

JVho durdt defy th' Omnipotent to arms. 

Nine times tlie space that measures day and night 50 

To mortal me^i, he with his horrid crew 

Lay vanquish'd, rolling in the fiery gulf, 

Confounded though immortal : But his doom 

Reserved him to more wrath ; for now the thought 

Both of lost happiness and lasting pain 55 

Torments him ; round he throws his baleful eyes, 

That witness'd huge affliction and dismay, 

Mix'd v/ith obdurate pride and steadfast hate : 

At once, as far as angels' ken, he views 

The dismal situation waste and wild : 60 

A dungeon horrible on all sides round. 

As one great furnace flamed ; yet from those flames 

No light ; but rather darkness visible 

Served only to discover sights of woe, 

Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 65 

And rest can never dwell : hope never comes, 

That comes to all : but torture without end 

Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed 

With ever-burning- sulphur unconsumed : 

Such place eternal justice had prepared 78 

For those rebellious ; here their pris'n ordain'd 

In utter darkness, and their portion set 

As far removed from God and light of heaven. 

As from the centre thrice to th' utmost pole. 

44. This whole description of the fall of the angels and of the 
infernal abyss is conceived in the noblest style of poetry; the 
flaming-, rushing- fall of the apostate ang-els, and the dark but fiery 
prison which received theiu, are jerhaps the most sublime pictures 
which the human iniag-ination ever produced. 

74. It is a curious observation, that Homer places Hell as far 
oeneath the earth as Heaven is above it; Virgil makes it twice as 
distant, and Milton here thrice as far, 



20 PARADISE L08T. 

O bow unlike the place from whence tliey fell! 75 
There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelrn'd 
With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, 
He soon discerns, and v/elt'ring- by his side 
One next himself in power, and next in crime, 
Long- after known in Palestine, and named 80 

Beelzebub. To whom th' Arch-Enemy, 
And thonce in Heav'n call'd Satan, with bold words 
Breaking the horrid silence thus began : 

If thou beest he ; but O how fallen ! how chang'ed 
From him who, in the happy realms of light 85 

Cloth'd with transcendent brightness didst outshine 
Myriads though bright I If he whom mutual league. 
United thoughts and counsels, equal hope 
And hazard in the glorious entei^prise, 
Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd DO 

In equal ruin : into what pit thou seest 
From what height fall'n, so much the stronger proved 
He with his thunder: and till then who knew 
The force of those dire arms ? yet not for those 
Nor what the potent victor in his rage 95 

Can else inflict, do I repent or change, 
Though changed in outward lustre, that fix'd mind 
And high disdain from sense of injured merit, 
That with the Mightiest raised me to contend, 
And to the fierce contention brought along* 100 

Innumerable force of Spirits arm'd. 
That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring. 
His utmost pow'r with adverse pow'r opposed 
In dubious battle on the plains of Heav'n, 
And shook his throne. What though the field be lost'' 
^AU is not lost; th' unconquerable will 106 

And study of revenge, immortal hate. 
And courage never to submit or yield : 
And what is else not to be overcome 1 
That glory never shall his wrath or might 110 

81. Beelzebub, or the Lord of Flies, was worshipped at Ekron, 
2 King's, i. 2. see also MaU. xii. 24. 

82. Satan in Hebrew means an encmv- 

84. The first speech of Satan is very noble, and the abrnpt 
manner of its commencement is powerfiilly striking-. Imitations 
have been pointed out in this passage, of Isaiah xiv. Virgil, Mxu 
ii. 274. and Homer, Odvss. vi. 110. Others have also been re- 
marked of iEscbylus, Tasso, kc, but they seem to me to have been 
coincidences rather than imitations. 



BOOK I. 21 

Extort from me. To bow and sae for grace 

With suppliant knee, and deify his pow'r, 

Wiio from the terror of this arm so late 

Doubted his empire ; that were low indeed ! 

That were an ignominy and shame beneath 115 

This downfall ; since by fate the strength of Gods 

And tliis empyreal substance cannot fail. 

Since through experience of this great event 

In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced. 

We may with more successful hope reaolve 120 

To wag-e by force cr guile eternal war, 

Irreconcileable to our grand foe, 

Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joy 

Sole reigning holds the tyranny of heav*n. 

So spake th' apostate Angel, though in pain, 125 
Vaunting aloud, bat rack'd with deep despair : 
And him thus answer'd soon his bold compeer. 

O Prince, O Chief of many throned power? ' 
That led th' embattled Seraphim to war 
Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds 130 

Fearless, endanger'd heav'n's perpetual King, 
And put to proof his high supremacy, 
Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate ; 
Too well I see and rue the dire event, 
That with sad overthrow and foul defeat 135 

Hath lost us heav'n, and all this mighty host 
In horrible destruction laid thus low. 
As far as Gods and heav'nly essences 
Can peiish : for the mind and spirit remains 
Invincible, and vigour soon returns, 140 

Though all our glory extinct, and happy state 
Here swallow'd up in endless misery. 
Rut what if he our conqu'ror (whom I now 
Of force believe almighty, since no less 
Than such could have o'erpower'd such force as ours) 
Have left us this our spirit and strength entire 146 
Strongly to suffer and support our pains. 
That we may so suffice his vengeful ire, 

116. Sntan expresses by the word fate, his hiffh and proud be- 
lief ill the orig-innl and underived existence as well as immor- 
tality of tlie ariL'^els. Here is an admirable attention to the minutest 
circiimstaiices which might develope the character rf the fallen 
spirit evident throuehout the speech, and the reader's attention 
cannot be too strongly directed to its examination. 



22 PARADISE LOST. 

Or do him mightier service as his thralls 

By rig-ht of war, whate'er his business be 150 

Here in the heart of Hell to work iu fire, 

Or do his eirands in the gloomy deep ; 

What can it then avail, though yet we ieel 

Strength undiminish'd, or eternal beini^ 

To undergo eternal punishment? 155 

Whereto with speedy words th' Arch-Fiend reply'd : 

Fall'n Cherub, to be weak is miserable 
Doing' or suffering : but of this be sure, 
To do aught good never will be our task, 
But ever to do ill our sole delight, 160 

As being the contrary to his high will 
Whom we resist. If then his providence 
Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, 
Our labour must be to pervert that end, 
And out of good still to iind means of evil ; 16! 

Which oft-times may succeed, so as perhaps 
Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb 
His inmost counsels from their destined aim. 
But see, the angry victor hath recall'd 
His ministers of vengeance and pursuit 17' 

Back to tlie gates of Heav'n ; the sulph'rous hail 
Shot after us in stomi, o'erblown hath laid 
The fiery surge, that from the precipice 
Of Heav'n received us falling ; and the thunder, 
Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage, 175 
Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now 
To bellow through the vast and boundless deep, 
Let us not slip th' occasion, whether scorn . 
Or satiate fury yield it from our foe. 
Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, 180 
The seat of desolation, void of light, 
Save what the glimm'ring of these livid flames 
Casts pale and dreadful ? Thither let us tend 
From off the tossing of these fiei"y waves. 
There rest, if any rest can harbour there, 185 

170. Dr. Bemley has pointed out a contradiction between this 
passag-e and one in the sixth book. It is here said that tlie good 
aug-els pursued the fallen ones down to hell ; in the other place, 
It is asserted, that the Messiah alone expelled them from lieaven. 
The variation has been accounted for by tiie account being given 
by different relators— The one by the discomfited Satan, the other 
ov ilie angel Raphael. 



BOOK I. 2'c 

And reassembling- our afHicted powers, 
Consult how we may henceforth most offend 
Our enemy, our own loss how reps^ir, 
How overcome this dire calamity. 
What reinforcement we may g-ain from hope 100 
If not wliat resolution from despair. 
/'^ Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate 
f With head uplift above the wave, and eyes 
That sparkling- blazed, his other parts besides 
Prone on the flood, extended long- and large, 195 
Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge - 
As whom the fables name of monstrous size ; J 
Titanian, or Earth-born, that Avarr'd on Jove, 
Briareos, or Typhon, whom the den 
By ancient Tarsus held, or that sea-beast 200 

Leviathan, which God of all his works 
Created Lugest that sv.'im the ocean stream; 
Him haply slumb'ring on the Norway foam 
The pilot of some small night-founder'd skiff 
Dreming some island, oft, as seamen tell, 205 

With fixed anchor in his scaly rind 
Moors by his side under the lee, while night 
Invests tlie sea, and wished morn delays : 
So stretch'd out huge in length the Arch-Fiend lay 
Chain'd on the burning lake, nor ever thence 210 
Had ris'n or heaved his head, but that the will 
And high permission of all-ruling Heav'n 
Left him at large to his own dark designs, 
That with reiterated crimes he might 
Heap o,n himself damnation, while he sought 215 
Evil to others, and enraged might see 
How all his malice served but to bring forth 

196. Virg-il describes the bulk of one of the giants in the same 
manner. JEn. vi. 596. 

199. Typhon or Typhanis was one of the rebel giants, and 
Imprisoned by Jnpuer under Mount iEtna, or, as others say, in a 
c■<l^e near Tarsus, a city in Cilicia. 

201. It has been qnestioned whether IMilton supposed the Levia- 
than to be a whale or a crocodile. — It is most probable his ima- 
2-i nation maite him content with the description of this animal 
given in Job, and thnt his critical industry was not at all engaged 
In settling the question. 

204. Bentley has given a curious instance of his utter want 
of poetical feeling in proposing to change this epithet nighl- 
fovndcred into vigh-fo-iindered. 

209. riiis verse,"by its laboured length, well expresses the idea 
of Satan » immense bulk. 



24 PARADISE LOST. 

Infinite goodness, grace, and mercy shewn 
On Man, by liim seduced ; but on himself 
Treble confusion, wrath, and vengeance pour'd. 220 
/Forthwitlj upright he rears from olf the pool 
^ Hits mighty stature ; on each hand the flames 
Driv'n backward slope their pointing spires, and roll'd 
In billows, leave i' th' midst a horrid vale. 
Then with expanded wings he steers his flight 223 
Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air. 
That felt unusual weight; till on dry land 
He lights, if it were land that ever burn'd 
With solid, as the lake w^ith liquid fire^J 
And such appear'd in hue, as when the force 23fl 
Of subterranean wind transports a hill 
Torn from Pelorus, or the shatter'd side 
Of thund'ring ^tna, whose combustible 
And fuel'd entrails thence conceiving fire, 
Sublimed with min'ral fui-y, aid the winds, 235 

And leave a singed bottom all involved 
With stench and smoke : such resting found the sole 
Of unblest feet. Him follow'd his next mate, 
Both glorying to have 'scap'd the Stygian flood 
As Gods, and by their own recover'd strength, 24(i 
Not by the sufF'rance of Supernal Power. 

Is this the region, this the soil, the clime. 
Said then the lost Arch- Angel, this the seat 
That we must change for heav'n, this mournful gloom 
For that celestial light ? Be it so, since he 245 

Who now is Sovran can dispose and bid 
What shall be right: farthest from him is best. 
Whom reason hath equall'd, force hath made supreme 
Above his equals. y Farewell happy fields, 
Wbere joy for ever dwells :\Hail horrors, hail 250 
Infernal world, and thoii profoundest Hell 
Receive thy new possessor ; one v/ho brings 
A mind not to be changed by place or time. 
(The mind is its own place, and in itself 
\Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n. 255 

225. Said to be borrowed from Spenser, Book i. Canto 2. 

231. Winds is sonietinies read instead of wind. 

232. Pelorus is a Sicilian promontory now called Capo di Faro. 
24f). Sovran is abridg-ed from the Italian Sovrano. 

254. Tliip sentiment is t!ie i^reat foundation on which the Stoics 
buili their whole system, of F.tliif's. 



BOOK I. 25 

What matter where, if I he still the same^j 

And what I should be, all but less than he 

Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least 

We shall be free ; th' Almighty hath not built 

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence : 260 

Here we may reign secTire, and in my choice 

To reign is worth ambition, though in hell ; 

Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven. 

But wherefore let we then our faithful friends, 

Th' associates and copartners of our loss, 265 

Lie thus astonish 'd on th' oblivious pool. 

And call them n Dt to share with us their part 

In this unhappy mansion, or once more 

With rallied arms to try what may be yet 

Regain'd in heav'n, or what more lost in Hell ? 27'' 

So Satan spake ; and him Beelzebub 
Thus answer'd : Leader of those armies brig-ht, 
Which but th' Omnipotent none could have foil'd, 
If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge 
Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft 275 

In worst extremes, and on the perilous edg'e 
Of battle when it raged, in all assaults 
Their surest signal, they will soon resume 
New courage and revive, though now they lie 
Grov'ling and prostrate on yon lake of fire, 280 

As we ere while, astounded and amazed. 
No wonder, fall'n such a pernicious height. 

He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend 
Was moving tow'rd the shore ; his pond'rous shield, 
Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, 285 

Behind him cast ; the broad circumference 
Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose oi'b 
Thro ugh optic glass the Tuscan artist views 
At evening from the top of Fesole, 
Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, 290 

Rivers, or mountains, on her spotty globe. 
His spear, to equal which the tallest pine 

263. The same sentiment is put by jEschylns into the month of 
Prometheus, and it was the well-known saying of Julius Ca;sar, 
that he would rather be the first man in a village, than the second 
in Rome. 

287. So Homer and Ossian compare the shields of their heroes. 

289. Fesole and Valdarno, the one a city, the other a valley, iu 
Tuscany. 



^G PARADISE LUST. 

Hewn on Norweg-ian liills, to be the mast 

Of some great ammiral, were but a wand, 

He walk'd with to support uneasy steps 295 

Over the burning marie ; not like those steps 

On Heaven's azure, and the torrid clime 

Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire : 

Nathless he so endured, till on the beach 

Of that infla^ied sea he stood, and call'd 300 

His legions, Vngel forms, who lay entranced 

Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooka 

In Vallombrosa, where the Etrurian shades 

High over-arch*d imbow'r ; or soatter'd sedge 

Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion arm'd ^J05 

Hath vex'd the Red Sea coast, whose waves o'erthrew 

Busiris and his Memphian chivalry*^, 

While with perfidious hatred they^ursued 

The sojourners of Goshen, who beheld 

From the safe shore their floating carcases 310 

And broken chariot wheels : so thick bestrown. 

Abject and lost lay these, covering the flood. 

Under amazement of their hideoiis change. 

He call'd so loud, that all the hollow deep 

Of Hell resounded. Princes, Potentates, 315 

Wan-iors, the flow'r of heav'n, once yours, now lost. 

If such astonishment as this can seize 

Eternal spirits ; or have ye chos'n this place 

After the toil of battle to repose 

Your weaiied virtue, for the ease you find 320 

To slumber here, as in the vales of Heaven? 

Or in this abject posture have ye sworn 

T' adore the conqueror? who now beholds 

Cherub and Seraph rolling in the flood 

With scatter'd arms and ensigns, till anon 325 

293. Milton here ag'ain enlarges on the idea of the ^reat pi'^- 
ceding- poets, who had given their heroes a pine for their wands 
or spears. 

294. Ammiral from the German aniiral or the Italian ammirn^lio. 
303. A famous valley in Tuscany. The name is compounded of 

vallis and umbra. 

305. Orion is the most stormy of the constellations, and, as the 
Red Sea abounds with sedg-e, it is here represented as exercising 
its influence over it. 

307. Pharaoh has been supposed to be the same with Busiri'^. 
which opinion Milton appears to have held. Chivalry is ustd in 
the poets to denote, not only those who fight on horses, but those 
who go to battle in chariots drav- by them. 



BOOK I. 27 

His swift pursuers from heav'n gates discern 
Th' advantage, and descending tread us down 
Thus drooping, or with linked thunderbolts 
Transiix us to the bottom of this gulf. 
Awake, arise, or be for ever fall'n. 330 

They heard, and were abash'd, and up they sprung 
Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch 
On duty, sleeping found by whom they <iread. 
Rouse and bestir themselves ere well a ake. 
Nor did they not perceive the evil plight 335 

In wiiich they were, or the fierce pains not feel; 
Yet to their gen'ral's > oice they soon obey'd 
Innumerable. As when the potent rod 
Of Aniram's son, in Egypt's evil day. 
Waved round the coast, up call'd a pitchy cloud 340 
Of locusts, wai'ping on the eastern wind, 
Tbat o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung 
Like night, and darken'd all the land of Nile: 
So numberless were those bad Angels seen 
Hov'ring on wing under the cope of Hell 345 

' Twixt upper, nether, and suiTOunding- fires ; 
Till, as a signal giv'n, th' uplifted spear 
Of their gi-eat Sultan waving to direct 
Their course, in even balance down they light 
On the firm brimstone, and fill all the plain ; 350 
/a multitude, like which the populous north 
iPour'd never from her frozen loins, to pass 
Rhene or the Danaw, when her barb'rous sons 
Came like a deluge on the south, and spread 
Beneath Gibraltar to the Lybian sands.!' 355 

Forthwith from ev'ry squadron and eacih band 
The heads and leaders thither haste where stood 
Their great commander ; Godlike shapes and forms 
Excelling human, princely dignities. 
And Pow'rs that erst in Heaven sat on thrones ; 360 
Though of their names in heav'nly records now 
Re no memorial, blotted out and rased 
By their rebellion from the books of life. 



329<. An allusion is here made to tlie story of Ajax Oileus, 
Ami. i. 44. 

33B, See Exodus x. 13. 

353. Instead of book, to answer better to the plural records usf«l 
before, and to the immense number of ang'els. 



28 PARADISE LOST. 

Nor had tliey yet among- the sous of Eve 364 

Got them new uameii, till waiid'ring o'er the earth. 

Thro' God's high sutF'rance for the trial of man, 

By falsities and lies the greatest part 

Of mankind they corrupted, to forsake 

God their Creator, and th' invisible 

Glory of him that made them to transfonn 37C 

Oft to the image of a brute, adorn'd 

With gay religions full of pomp and gold, 

And Devils to adore for Deities : 

Then were they knovi^n to men by various nameK, 

And various idols through the Heathen world. 375 

Say, Muse, their names then known, who first, who 

Roused fi'om the slumber, on that fiery couch, [last 

At their great emp'ror's call, as next in worth 

Came singly whei-e he stood on the bare strand. 

While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof. 380 

The chief were those who from the pit of Hell 

Roaming to seek their prey on earth, durst fix 

Their seats long after next the seat of God, 

Their altars by his altar, Gods adored 

Among the nations round, and durst abide 385 

Jehovah thund'ring out of Sion, throned 

Between the Cherubim ; yea, often placed 

Within his sanctuary itself their shrines. 

Abominations; and with cursed things 

His holy rites and solemn feasts profaned, 390 

And with their darkness durst affront his light. 

First Moloch, horrid king, besmear'd with blood 

Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears. 

Though for the noise of drums and timbrels loud 

366. See Rom. chap. i. 

375. Tlie catalogue of tlie evil spirits is a great proof botli of the 
art and the imag'inatioii of Milton. It is far superior in descrip- 
tion, as well as fitness, to those in Homer and Virg-il, and forms 
a part of the poem which could not be removed without great 
injury to its completeness. 

386". God dwelt in a visible glory between the cherubim ia tlie 
Holy of Holies of the temple on Mount Sion. 

392. Moloch has been su()posed to be the Saturn of the heathens. 
The Scri|!tures say that parents made their children pass tliroui^h 
the tire to him, not perhaps in sacrifice always, but as a rite of con- 
secration to him. Rabba was the capital of the Ammonites, and 
Artiob and Basan neiirhbouring' countries. Gehenna, or the valley 
of Hinnom, near Jerusalem, is made in the New Testament a iy!;e 
f>f hell, as it was there that a fire was kept up to consume the 
s.;;crifices offered to this idol. 



BOOK i. 29 

Tiieir children's cries iinheard, that pass'd thro' fire 
To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite 396 

Worshipp'd in Rabba and her wat'ry plain, 
In Argob and in Basan, to the stream 
Of utmost Arnon. Nor content with such 
Audacious neig-hbourhood, the wisest heart 400 

Of Solomon he led by fraud to build 
lliH temple right against the temple' of God, 
On that opprobrious hill ; and made his grove 
The pleasant vale of Hinnom, Tophet thence 
And black Gehenna call'd, the type of Hell. 405 

Next Chemos, th' obscene dread of Moab's sons, 
From Aroar to Nebo, and the wild 
Of southmost Abarim ; in Hesebon 
And Horonaim. Seon's realm, beyond 
i^Tiie flowery dale of Sibma clad with vines>j, 410 

And Eleale to th' Asphaltic pool. 
Peor his other name, Avhen he enticed 
Israel in Sittiin, on their march from Nile, 
To do him v/anton rites, which cost them woe. 
Yet thence his lustful orgies he enlarged 415 

E'en to that hill of scandal, by the grove 
Of Moloch homicide ; lust hard by hate ; 
Till good Josiah drove them thence to Hell. 
With these came they, who, from the bord'ring flood 
Of old Euphrates to the brook that parts 420 

Egypt from Syrian ground, had general names 
Of Bajiijm and Ashtaroth ; those male. 
These feminine : for spirits, when they please, 
Can eitiier sgk assume, or both; so soft 
A lid uncompounded is their essence pure 425 

Not tied nor manacled with joint or limb; 
Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones. 
Like cumbrous flesh ; but, in what shape they choose 

403. Chemosh is thus mentioned next to Moloch because their 
nriiues are united in Scripture, see 1 King's xi. 7. This idoJ is 
g.ij))>i»sed to be the same with Baal-Peor and witli Priapus, see 
also N'umbers xxv. 2 Kin.n-s xxiii. 

417. The iiniire contained in this verse conveys a strong- moral 
truth. Had it not been, however, that the music of the verstj 
wodid have been injured, the idea would have ^een more correct 
by the traiisi)nsition of the words hist and hate. — See Faery Queen^ 
B. 3, Can. 12. 

422. The Gods of Syria, Palestine, &c. 

428. Speculations about the nature of spirits were a favourite 
iUHiseinent with learned men a few cent'Ties back. Milton doubt- 



30 PARADISE LOST. 

Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure. 
Can execute their aery purposes, 430 

And works of love or enmity fulfil. 
For those the race of Israel oft forsook 
Their living" Strength, and unfrequented left 
His righteous altar, bow^ing- lowly down 
To bestial gods ; for which their heads as low 435 
Bow'd down in battle, sunk, before the spear 
Of despicable foes. With these in troop 
Came Astoreth, whom the Phoenicians call'd 
Astarte, queen of heaven, with crescent horns ; 
To whose bright image nightly by the moon 440 

Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs; 
In Sion also not unsxmg, where stood 
Her temple on th' offensive mountain, built 
By that uxorious king, whose heart, though large, 
Beguiled by fair idolatresses, fell 445 

To idols foul, ^hammu/i came next behind. 
Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured 
The Syi-ian damsels to lament his fate 
In amorous ditties all a summer's day; 
\ While smooth Adonis from his native rock 450 

Ran purple to the sea,\Supposed with blood 
Of Thammuz yearly wounded;] the love-tale 
Infected Sion's daughters witbrlike heat; 
Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch 
Ezekiel sav7, v/hen by the vision led, 455 

His eye survey'd the dark idolatries 
Of alienated Judah. Next came one 
Who mourn'd in earnest, when the captive ark 
Maim'd his brute image, head and hands lopp'd off 
In his own temple, on the grunsel edge, 460 

Where he fell flat, and shamed his worshippers : 
Dagon his name, sea-monster, upward man 
And downward fish : yet had his temple high 
Rear'd in Azotas, dreaded through the coast 

less pariooK in ttie interest. The work from which he is supposed 
to liave taken most wis by Psellus, an author who composed a 
dialogue on the subject. 

438. For mention of this idol, see Jeremiah vii. 18. xiiv. 17, 18. 
also 1 Kinsrs xi. 5. 2 Kinps xxiii. 13. 

446. Thammuz, or Adonis, was the Gfod of the Syrians. He was 
&lain by a bear on nioint Lebanon, from which the river of the 
tame name descended. 

462. For tlie expl;in;ition of this passag'e, see I Sam. v. 4. vi. 17. 



BOOK 1. 31 

Of Palestine, in Gatli and Ascalon, 465 

And Accaron and Gaza's frontier bounds. 

Hlcn follow'd Rimmon, whose delightful seat 

Wasffair Damascus, on the fertile hanks 

Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams! 

He also 'gainst the house of God was bold : 470 

A leper once he lost, and gain'd a king- ; 

Ahaz his sottish conqu'ror, whom he drew 

God's altar to disparage and displace 

For one of Syrian mode, Avhereon to burn 

His odious offerings, and adore the gods 475 

Whom he had vanquish'd. After these appear'd 

A crew, who, under names of old renown, 

Osiris, Iris, Orus, and their train. 

With monstrous shapes and sorceries abused 

Fanatic Egypt and her priests, to seek 480 

Their wandering gods disguised in brutish forms 

Rather than human. Nor did Israel 'scape 

Th' infection, when their borrowed gold composed 

The calf in Oreb ; and the rebel king 

Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan, 485 

Likening his Maker to the grazed ox ; 

Jehovah, who in one night when he pass'd 

From Eg-ypt marching, equall'd with one stroke 

Both her first-born, and all her bleating gods. 

Belial came last, than whom a spirit more lewd 490 

Fell not from heaven, or more gross to love 

Vice for itself : to whom no temple stood, 

Nor altar smoked ; yet who more oft than he 

In temples and at altars, when the priest 

Turns atheist, as did Eli's sons, who fill'd 495 

With lust and violence the house of God 1 

In courts and palaces he also reigns. 

And in luxurious cities, where the noise 

Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers. 

And injury and outrage : and when night 500 

Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons 



467. Rittimon was a g-od of the Syrians. The leper mentioned 
was Naanian, see 2 Kin^s v. 

47S. The principal deities of the Egyptians. 

490. Belial and Moloch have situations awarded them according 
to their characters; the one last because the most slothful, the 
other first because the most violent. 



S2 PARADISE LOST. 

Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. 

Witness the streets of Sodom, and that night 

In Gibeah, when the hospitable door 

Exposed a matron, to avoid worse rape. JOS 

These were the prime in order and in mig'ht : 

The rest were long to tell, though far renown'd, 

Th' Ionian gods, of Javan's issue held 

Gods, yet confess'd later than Heaven and Earth, 

Their boasted parents : Titan, Heav'n's first-born, 510 

With his enormous brood, and birthright seized 

By younger Saturn : he from mightier Jove, 

His own and Rhea's son, like measure found ; 

So Jove usurping reign'd ; these first in Crete 

And Ida known, thence on the snowy top 515 

Of cold Olympus, ruled the middle air. 

Their highest heav'n ; or on the Delphian cliff. 

Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds 

Of Doric land ; or who with Saturn old 

Fled over Adria to th' Hesperian fields, 520 

And o'er the Celtic roam'd the utmost isles. 

All these and more came flocking ; but with looks 
Downcast and damp ; yet such wherein appear'd 
Obscure some glimpse of joy, to have found their 

chief 
Not in despair, to have found themselves not lost 520 
In loss itself: which on his count'nance cast 
Like doubtful hue : but he, his wonted pride 
Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore 
Semblance of w^orth, not substance, gently raised 
Their fainting courage, and dispell'd their fears. 530 
Then straight commands, that at tlie warlike sound 
Of trumpets loud and clarions be uprear'd 
His mighty standard ; that proud honour claim'd 
Azazel as his right, a cherub tall ; 
Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfarl'd 535 
Th' imperial ensign; which, full high advanced, 
Shone like a meteor, streaming to the wind, 

502. Blown has been proposed ns another readinof. 

o08. From Javan were descended the fonians and Grecians, 
anions whom arose the g'ods of the later mythology. 

530. Their fainted courage in the first edition. 

534. Azazel, according- to its derivation, means brave in re- 
trealing. The description in this passage is remarkaVJy mag- 
nificent* 



BOOK I. 33 

With gems and golden lustre rich emblazed 

Seraphic arms and trophies ; all the while 

Sonorous metal blowing- martial sounds : 540 

At which the universal host up-sent 

A «hout, that tore hell's concave, and beyond 

Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. 

All in a moment through the gloom were seen 

Ten thousand banners rise into the air, f'Tj 

With orient colours waving : with them rose 

A forest huge of spears ; and thronging helms 

Appear'd, and serried shields in thick array 

Of depth immeasurable : anon they move 

In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood 550 

Of flutes and soft recorders ; such as raised 

To height of noblest temper heroes old 

Arming to battle ; and instead of rage , 

Deliberate valour breath'd, firm and unmoved 

With dread of death to flight or foal retreat : 555 

Nor wanting power to mitigate and 'suage, 

VV^ith solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase 

Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain 

From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they, 

Breathing united force, vrith fixed thought, 560 

Moved on in silence, to soft pipes, that charm'd 

Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil : and now 

Advanced in view they stand ; a horrid front 

Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guise 

Of wai-riors old with order'd spear and shield, 560 

Awaiting what command their mighty chief 

Had to impose : he through the armed files 

Darts his experienced eye, and soon traverse 

The whole battalion views, their order due. 

Their visages and stature as of gods : 570 

Their number last he sums. And now his heart 

Distends with pride, and hardening in his strength 

Glories ; for never since created man 

Met such embodied force, as, named with these, 

Could merit more than that small infantry 575 

Warr'd on by cranes : though all the giant brood 

543 RoUn used like the Latin resrnum, for kingdom. 

550. There were three kinds of music among the ancients. 

The Lydiin, the most melancholy; the Plirygian, the most lively ; 

and the Dorian, the most niajeslic. Milton has been very exact 

In employing music fit for each particular purpose. 

C 2 



34 PxVRADISE LOST. 

Of Phlegra with tli' heroic race were join'd 

That foug-ht at Thebes and Ilium, on each side 

Mix'd with auxiliar g-ods ; and what resounds 

In fable or romance of Uther's son 580 

Begirt witli British and Armoric knights ; 

And all who since, baptized or iniidel, 

Jousted in Aspramont, or Montalban, 

Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond, 

Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore, 585 

When Charlemag-ne with all his peerage fell 

By Fontarabia. Thus far these beyond 

Compare of mortal prowess, yet observed 

Their dread commander: he, above the rest 

In shape and gesture proudly eminent, 590 

Stood like a tower ; his form had not yet lost 

All her original brightness, nor appear'd 

Less than archangel ruin'd, and the excess 

Of glory obscured; las when the sun, new risen. 

Looks through the horizontal misty air 595 

Shorn of his beams; or from behind the moon, 

In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds 

On half the nations, and with fear of change 

Perplexes monarchs. Darken'd so, yet shone 

Above them all the Arch-angel : but his face COO 

Deep scars of thunder had intrench'd, and care 

Sat on his faded cheek ; but under brows 

Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride 

Waiting revenge ; cruel his eye, but cast 

Signs of remorse and passion, to behold 605 

The fellows of his crime, the followers rathei 

(Far other once b< held in bliss), condemn'd 

For ever now to 1 ave their lot in pain : 

Millions of Spinas for his fault amerced 

Of heaven, and trora eternal splendours flung 610 

For his revolt, vet faithful how they stood, 

Their glorv wifMer'd : as when Heav'n's fire 

Hath scatbvl f)ie forest oaks, or mountain pines, 

577. Phlep-f a was a citv of Macedonia. 

580. Uthc's P'^n was "King- Arthur: this and the following al- 
lusions are f'erivetl from the old romances on the subject. Char- 
lemag'ne is aid not to have died ai Fontarabia, but some years 
after, and «ii ptacfc. 

609. Ani'-rcea. deprived of. 

611. The ronrtruction requires a reference to the verb, behold^ 
nt line fi05. 



BOOK I. 35 

With singed top their stately grc-wth tho' bare 
Stands on the blasted hrjath. He now prepared 615 
To speak; whereat their doubled ranks they bend 
Prom wing- to wing-, and half inclose him round 
With all his peers. Attention held them mute. 
. Thrice he assay'd, and thriee, in spite of scorn, 
V Fears, such as angels weep,Jburst forth. At last 62® 
|Words interwove with sighs found out their way. 

O myriads of immortal Spirits, O Powers 
Matchless, but with th' Almighty, and that strife 
Was not inglorious, though th' event was dire, 
tVs this place testifies, and this dire change, 625 

Hateful to utter; but what power of mind, 
foreseeing or presaging, from the depth 
Of knowledge past or present, could have fear'd 
How such united force of Gods, how such 
As stood like these, could ever know repulse ; 630 
For who can yet believe, though after loss. 
That all these puissant legions, whose exile 
Hath emptied Heav'n, shall fail to re-ascend 
Self-raised, and repossess their native seat ? 
For me, be witness all the host of Heav'n, 635 

If counsels different, or danger shunn'd 
By me, have lost our hopes. But he who reigns 
Monarch in Heav'n, till then as one secure 
Sat on his throne, upheld by old repute. 
Consent, or custom, and his regal state 640 

Put forth at full, bat still his strength conceal'd, 
AMiich tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. 
Henceforth his might we know, and know our own, 
So as not either to provoke or dread 
New war, provoked ; our better part remains 645 
To work in close design, by fraud or guile, 
What force effected not ; that he no less 
At length from us may find, who overcomes 
By force, hath overcome but half his foe. 
Space may produce new worlds ; whereof so rife 658 
There went a fame in Heav'n that he ere long- 
Intended to create, and therein plant 
A generation, whom his choice regard 
Should favour equal to the sons of Heav'n : 

G33. A third part cf the angels is sui)posed to have faller, set 
Kev. xii. 4. 



36 PARADlSb LOST. 

Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps (355 

Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere : 
For this infernal pit shall never hold 
Celestial Spirits in bondag-e, nor th' abyss 
Long under darkness cover. But these thoug-hts 
Full counsel must mature : Peace is despair'd, 6OT 
For who can think submission ? War then. War, 
Open or understood, mast be resolved. 

He spake : and, to confirm his woi'ds, out flew 
/ Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs 
I Of mighty Cherubim : the sudden blaze 665 

I Far round illumined Hell. Highly they raged 
I Against the highest, and fierce with grasped arms 
* Clashed on their sounding shields the din of war, 
Hurling defiance tow'rd the vault of Heaven. 

There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top 670 
Belch'd fire and rolling smoke ; the rest entire 
Shone with a glossy scurf, undoubted sign 
That in his womb was hid metallic ore, 
The work of stilphur. Thither wing'd with speed 
A num'rous brigade hasten'd : as when bands 675 
Of pioneers, with spade and pickaxe arm'd. 
Forerun the royal camp to trench a field, 
Or cast a rampart. Mammon led them on ; 
Mammon, the least erected Spirit that fell 
From Heav'n ; for e'en in Heav'n his looks and 

thoughts 680 

Were always downward bent, admiring more 
The ricKes of Heav'n's pavement, trodden gold. 
Than aught divine or holy else enjoy'd 
In vision beatific. By him first 

Men also, and by his suggestion taught, 685 

Ransack'd the centre, and with impious hands 
Rifled the bowels of their mother earth 
For treasures better hid. Soon had his crew 
Open'd into the hill a spacious wound. 
And digg'd out ribs of gold. Let none admire 690 
That riches grow in Hell; that soil may best 

664. Drawn from tlie thig'hs, a Greek and poetical mode of 
expressing this idea. 

673. Womb is here used in the wide sense of the Latin Uterus. 

678. Mammon is a Syrian word, and means riches. 

684. The miners believe in a sort of Devils who freciuent the 
mines, ajad sometimes work there 



BOOK f. 37 

Deserve the precious bane. And here let those 
Who boast in mortal things, and wond'ring tell 
Of Babel, and the works of Memphian kings. 
Learn how their greatest monuments of fame, 695 
And strength, and art, are easily outdone 
By Spirits reprobate, and in an hour 
What in an age they with incessant toil 
And hands innumerable scarce perform. 
T^igh on the plain in many cells prepared, 70u 

That underneath had veins of liijuid lire 
Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude 
With wond'rous art founded the massy ore, 
Severing each kind, and scumm'd the bullion dross ; 
A third as soon had form'd within the ground 7ii"^ 
A various mould, and from the boiling cells 
By strange conveyance fill'd each hollow nook, 
As in an organ, from one blast of wind, 
To many a row of pipes, the sound-board breathes. 
4non out of the earth a fabric huge 710 

Rose like an exhalation, \with the sound 
Ofaulcet symphonies and voices sweet,! 
jBuilt like a temple, where pilasters round 
Were set, and Doric pillars\overiaid 
With golden architrave; noV did there want 715 
Corn7ce or frieze, with bossy sculptures grav'n^ 
The roof was fi-etted gold. Not Babylon, 
Nor great Alcairo such magnificence 
EqvAll'd in all their glories, to inshrine 
Belns or Serapis their Gods, or seat 720 

Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove 
In wealth and luxury. Th' ascending pile 
Stood fix'd her stately height ; and straight the doors, 
Op'ning their brazen folds, discover Avide 
Within her ample spaces, o'er the smooth 725 

And level pavement. From the arched roof, 
Pendant by subtle magic, many a row 
Of starry lamps and blazing cressets,! fed 

695. Strength and art are to be construed with monuments m 
the nominative. 

708. A new and beautiful comparison — Milton was a performer 
on the organ himself. 

720. Belus was the son of Nimrod, and the first man wor- 
sliipped as a God. He was called Bel, and Baal. 
728. Cr'isset, any greitt li&ht. 
C2 



38 PARADISE LOST. 

With Naphtha and Asphaltus, yielded light 

As from a sky. The hasty multitude 730 

Admiring* enter'd; and the work some praise, 

And some the architect : his hand was known 

In heaven by many a tower'd structure high, 

Where sceptred ang-els held their residence. 

And sat as princes ; whom the supreme King- 735 

Exalted to such power, and gave to rule, 

Each in his hierarchy, the ordei-s bright. 

Nor was his name iiiiheard or u7iadored 

In ancient Greece ;|and in Ausonian land 

Men caird him Mulciber ; and how he fell 740 

From heaven, they fabled, thrown by angry Jove 

Sheer o'er the crystal battlements: from morn 

To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, 

A summer's day ; and with the setting sun 

l^ropt from the zenith like a falling star, 745 

On Lemnos, th' JEgean isle : thus they relate. 

Erring ; for he with this rebellious rout 

Fell long before ; >,nor ought avail'd him now 

T' have built in heav'n high tow'rs ; nor did he 'scape 

By all his engines, but was headlong sent 750 

With his industrious crew to build in hell. 

Meanwhile, the winged heralds, by command 
Of sovereign power, with awful ceremony 
And trumpet's sound, throughout the host proclaim 
A solemn council, fcn^thwith to be held 755 

At Pandemonium, the high capital 
Of Satan and his peers: their summons caU'd 
From every band and squared regiment 
By place or choice the worthiest: they anon. 
With hundreds and with thousands, trooping came. 
Attended : all access was throng'd : the gates 701 
And porches wide, but chief the spacious hail 
(Though like a cover'd field, where champiims bold 
Wont ride in arm'd, and at the soldan'a chair 
Defied the best of Panim chivalry 766 

To mortal combat, or career with lance). 
Thick swarm'd, both on the ground and in the i^h', 
Brush'd with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees 
In spring time, when the sun with Taurus rides, 

768. This simile is a Muitation of Homer, 11. fi, 87, 



BOOK I. 39 

Pour forth their populous >outh about the hive //O 
In clusters ; ^^they among fresh dews and flowers 
Fly to and fro; or on the smoothed plank. 
The suburb of their straw-built citadel. 
New ruhb'd with balm, expatiate and confer 
Their state affairs ; so thick the aery crowd 775 

Swarra'd and were straiten'd ; till, the signal given, 
Behold a wonderl^^They but now who seem'd 
In bigness to surpass earth's giant sons, 
Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room 
Throng numberless, like that pygmean race 780 

Beyond the Indian mountt ;or fairy elves, 
Whose midnight revels, by a forest-side 
Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, 
pr dreams he sees, while over head the moon 
feits arbitress, and nearer to the earth 785 

Wheels her pale course ;^they, on their mirth and 
Intent, with jocund music charm his ear ; [dance 
At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. 
Thus incoi-poreal spirits to smallest forms 
Reduced their shapes immense, and were at large, 
Though without number still, amidst the hall 791 
Of that infernal coui*t. But far within. 
And in their own dimensions like themselves. 
The great Seraphic Lords and Cherubim, 
In close recess and secret conclave sat, 79' 

j A thousand Demi-gods on golden seats, 
! Frequent and full. After short silence then, 
And summons read, the great consult began. 

777. We here see the use of the lines on the nature of spirits 
which prepare the reader for the wonders afterward related. 

785. Arbitress, witness, or spectatress. Allusion is here xrnvis 
to the superstitious belief in the power of witchesover the moon 
797. Freauent. like the Latin frequens, meaning: At^/* 



BOOK II. 

THE ARGUMENT. 

The consultation beg'un, Satan debates whetlitT another battiC 
oe to be hazarded for the recovery of Heaven : some advise if, 
others dissuade: a third proposal is preferred, mentioned before 
by Satan, to search the truth of that propliecy or tradition in 
Heav*. n concerning another world, and another kind of creature, 
equal or not much inferior to themselves, about this time to be 
created: their doubt who shall be sent on this difficult search : 
Satan their cliief undertakes aione the voyag-e, is honoured and 
applauded. The council tlius ended, the rest betake them several 
ways, and to several employments, as their inclinations lead 
them, to entertain the time till Satan return. He passes on his 
journey to Hell-gates, fin^s them shut, and who sat there to 
g-uard them, by whom at leng-th they are opened, and discover 
tohinii the great Sjfulf between Hell and Heaven; with what diffi- 
culty he passes throug-h, directed by Chaos, the power of that place, 
to ine sight of this new world which he sought. 

High on a throne of royal state, which far 

Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, 

Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand 

Show'rs on her kings harbaric pearl and gold, 

Satan exalted sat, by merit raised 5 

To that bad eminence ; and from despair 

Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires 

Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue 

Vain war with Heaven ; and, by success untaught. 

His proud imaginations thus display'd : 10 

Pow'rs and Dominions, Deities of Heaven, 
For since no deep within her gulf can hold 
Immortal vigour, though oppress'd and fall'n, 
I give not Heav'n for lost. From, this descent 
Celestial virtues rising, will appear 15 

More glorious and more dread than from no fall. 
And trust themselves to fear no second fate. 
Me, though just right, and the iix'd laws of Heav'n, 
Did first create your leader, next free choice. 
With what besides, in council or in fight, 20 

Hath been achieved of merit ; yet this loss. 
Thus far at least recover'd, hath much more 
Establish'd in a safe uuenvied throne, 

2. Ormus is an island in the Persian Gulf, and, together with 
India, produces many of the treasures enumerated in this passage, 

11. St. Paul divides the angers, into thrones, dominions, pnn- 
opaliti€6, &c.— See Col. i. I6T 



BOOK 11. 41 

Yielded with full consent. The happier state 

In Heaven, which follows dignity, might draw 25 

Envy from each inferior ; but who here 

Will envy whom the hig'hest place exposes 

Foremost to stand against the Thund'rer's aim 

Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share 

Of endless pain 1 Where there is then no good 30 

For which to strive, no strife can grow up there 

From faction ; for none sure will claim in Hell 

Precedence ; none, whose portion is so small 

Of present pain, that with ambitious mind 

Will covet more. With this advantage then 35 

To union, and firm faith, and firm accord. 

More than can be in Heav'n, we now return 

To claim our just inheritance of old, 

Surer to prosper than prosperity 

Could have assured us ; and by what best way, 40 

Whether of open war or covert guile, 

We now debate : who can advise, may speak. 

He ceased : and next him Moloch, scepter'd king, 
Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest Sp'rit 
That fought in Heav*n, now fiercer by despair. 45 
His trust was with th' Eternal to be deem'd 
Equal in strength ; and rather than be less. 
Cared not to be at all. With that care lost 
Went all his fear : of God, or Hell, or worse, 
He reck'd not; and these words thereafter spake : 50 

My sentence is for open war : of wiles 
More unexpert I boast not : them let those 
Contrive Vv^ho need, or when they need, not now. 
For while they sit contriving, shall the rest. 
Millions that stand in arms, and longing wait 55 
The signal to ascend, sit lingering here 
Hea^'n's fugitives, and for their dwelling-place 
Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame, 
The prison of his tyranny who reigns 
By our delay ? No, let us rather choose, 60 

Arm'd with Hell-flames and fury, all at once 
O'er Heav'n's high tow'rs to force resistless way, 
Turning our tortures into horrid arms 
Against the torturer ; when to meet the noise 
Of his almighty engine he shall hear, 65 

Infernal thunder, and for lightning see 



42 PARADISE LOST. 

Black, fire and horror shot with equal rage 

Among- his Angels, and his throne itself 

Mix'd with Tartarean sulphur, and strange fire. 

His own invented torments. But perhaps 70 

The way seems difficult and steep, to scale 

With upright wing against a higher foe. 

Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench 

Of that forgetful lake benumb not still. 

That in our proper motion we ascend 75 

Up to our native seat ; descent and fall 

To us is adverse. Who but felt of late, 

When the fierce foe hung on our broken rear 

Insulting, and pursued us through the deep. 

With what compulsion and laborious flight 80 

We sunk thus low? Th' ascent is easy then ; 

Th' event is fear'd. Should we again provoke 

Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find 

To our destruction, if there be in Hell 

Fear to be worse destroy'd. What can be worse 83 

Than to dwell here, driv'n out from bliss, condemn'd 

In this abhorred deep to utter woe. 

Where pain of uiiextinguishable fire 

Must exercise us without hope of end, 

The vassals of his anger, when the scourge 90 

Inexorably, and the tort'ring hour 

Calls us to penance 1 More destroy'd than thus, 

We should be quite abolish'd, and expire. 

What fear we then ? what doubt we to incense 

His utmost ii'e 1 which to the height enraged 95 

Will either quite consume us, and reduce 

To nothing this es.sential, happier far 

Than mis'rable to have eternal being. 

Or if our substance be indeed divine, 

And cannot cease to be, we are at worst 100 

On this side nothing; and by proof we feel 

Our pow'r sufficient to disturb his Heav'n. 

And with perpetual inroads to alarm, 

Though inaccessible, his fatal throne : 

89. Exe.rcised, this word is here used in the sense of the Latin 
exerceo, that is, to vex or trouble. 

91. Inexorably — in some editions, inexorable. 

92. By calling to penance, Milton seems to intimate, that the 
saffering-s of the condemned spirits are not always equally severe. 

101. Fatal, that is upheld by fate. 



BOOli IL 43 

Which, if not victory, is yet reveng-e. 105 

He ended frowning-, and his look, denounced 
Desp'rate reveng-e, and battle dang-erous 
To less than God.?. On th' other side up rose 
Belial, in act more graceful and humane : 
A fairer pei'son lost not Heav'n ; he seem'd 1]0 

For dignity composed and hig-h exploit : 
But all was false and hollow, though his tong-ue 
Dropt man)ta, a^ad could make the worse appear 
The better reason, to perplex and dash 
Maturest counsels : for his thoughts were low; 115 
To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds 
Tim'rous and slothful : yet he pleased the ear. 
And with persuasive accent thus began : 

I should be much for open war, O Peers! 
As not behind in hate, if what was urged 120 

Main reason to persuade immediate war, 
Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast 
Ominous conjecture on the whole success : 
When he who most excels in fact of arms, 
In what he counsels and in what excels 125 

Mistrustful, g-rounds his courage on despair, 
And utter dissolution, as the scope 
Of all his aim, after some dire revenge. * 
First, what revenge ? The tow'rs of Heav'n are fill'd 
With armed watch, that render all access 130 

Impregnable ; oft on the bord'ring deep 
Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing 
Scout far and wide into the realm of night, 
Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way 
By force, and at our heels all hell should rise 135 
With blackest insurrection, to confound 
lleav'n's purest light, yet our Great Enemy, 
All incorruptible, would on his throne 
Sit unpolluted, and th' ethereal mould 
Incapable of stain would soon expel 140 

Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire 
Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope 
Is flat despair. We must exasperate 

109. Belial's speech is in admirable conformity with the de» 
scription ffiven of his character in tlie tirst book. It is through- 
out that of a luxurious and base spirit, and is in fine contrast to 
'.hat of Moloch. ^ , 

124. Fact of arms' from the Italian fatto d'anne, a battle. 



44 PARADISE LOST. 

Th' Almighty Victor to spend all his rai^e, 

And that must end us ; that must be our cure, 145 

To be no more 1 Sad cure ; for who would lose. 

Though full of pain, this intellectual being". 

Those thoughts that wander throug-h eternity. 

To perish rather, swallow'd up and lost 

In the wide womb of uncreated night, 150 

Devoid of sense and motion ? And who knows. 

Let this be good, whether our angry Foe 

Can give it, or will ever? How he can 

Is doubtful ; that he never will is sure. 

Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire 155 

Belike through impotence, or unaware. 

To give his enemies their wish, and end 

Them in his anger, whom his anger saves 

To punish endless ? Wherefore cease we then ? 

Say they who counsel war, we are decreed, 160 

Reserved, and destined, to eternal woe ; 

Whatever doing, what can we suffer more. 

What can we suffer worse ? Is this then worst, 

Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms 1 

What when we fled amain, pursued and struck 165 

With Heav'n's afflicting thunder, and besought 

The deep to shelter us ? This Hell then seem'd 

A refuge froru those wounds : or when we lay 

Chain'd on the burning lake ? That sure was worse. 

What if the breath that kindled those grim fires, 

Awaked should blow them into sev'nfold rage, in 

And plunge us in the flames ? Or from above 

Should intermitted vengeance arm again 

His red right hand to plague us 1 What if all 

Her stores were open'd, and this firmament 175 

Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire. 

Impendent horrors, threat'ning hideous fall 

One day upon our heads ; while we perhaps 

Designing or exhorting glorious war, 

Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurl'd 180 

Each on his rock, transfix'd, the sport and prey 

Of wracking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk 

156. Impotenre is to be understood as the opposite 

of wisdom, or mental weakness. 

170. See Isa. xxx. 33, 

174. His red riorlU hand, namely God's, whose vengfeance 

is personified. 




C;aightxTi n fieiytt^mpcsr.slitdl he Irmi'd 
Ecicl'i on. Ins Todi", tuaiisfixcl the, sport aixd prey 
Of 'wrackjaig' iA/liiTlT\^:iids,orlorp-veT siixiIl 
TJiLder-A/Y)]ijjr.iliQa ocpa:ii,^\T[ipt m chrOZLS; 
Tliere to con^eise iratL eA'eflcistiiie •■'aroaas, 



BOOK II. 45 

Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains ; 

There to converse with everlasting groans, 

Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved, 185 

Ages of hopeless end 1 This would be worse. -^'^ 

War therefore, open or conceal'd, alike 

My voice dissuades ; for what can force or guile 

With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye 

Views all things atone vie w ? He from Heav'n's height 

All these our motions vain, sees and derides ; 191 

Not more almighty to resist our might 

Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles. 

Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heav'n 

Thus trampled, thus expell'd, to suffer here 195 

Chains and these torments '? Better these than worse. 

By my advice : since fate inevitable 

Subdues us, and omnipotent decree, 

The Victor's will. To suffer, as to do, 

Our strength is equal; nor the law unjust 200 

That so ordains. This was at first resolved, 

If we were wise, against so great a Foe 

Contending*, and so doubtful what might fall. 

I laugh, when those who at the spear are bold 

And vent'rous, if that fail them, shrink and fear 205 

What yet they know must follow, to endure 

Exile or ignominy, or bonds, or pain, 

'I'he sentence of their Conqu'ror. This is now 

Our doom ; which if we can sustain and bear, 

Our Supreme Foe in time may much remit 210 

His anger, and perhaps, thus far removed. 

Not mind us not offending, satisfy'd 

With what is punish'd ; whence these raging fires 

Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames. 

Our pui'er essence then will overcome 215 

Their noxious vapour, or inured not feel. 

Or changed at length, and to the place conform'd 

In temper and in nature, will receive 

Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain ; 

This hori'or will grow mild, this darkness light, 220 

Besides what hope the never-ending flight 

Of future days may bring, what chance, what change 

190. See Psalm ii. 4. 
220. The word light is an adjective and not a substantive, F.s 
Dr. Bentlev supposed. It here means eas]/ to bear. 



46 PARADISE LOST. 

Worth waiting-, since our present lot appears 

For happy though but ill, for ill not worst, 

If we procure not to ourselves more woe. 225 

Thus Belial, with words cloth'd in reason's g-arb, 
Counsel'd ignoble ease and peaceful sloth, 
Not peace : and after him thus Mammon spake : 

Either to disenthrone the King of Heav'n 
We war, if war be best, or to regain 230 

Our own right lost : him to unthrone we then 
May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yield 
To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife. 
The former vain to hope, argues as vain 
The latter ; for what place can be for us 235 

Within Heav'n's bound, unless Heav'n's Lord 
We overpow'r ? Suppose he should relent, [Supreme 
And publish grace to all, on promise made 
Of new subjection ; with what eyes could we 
Stand in his presence humble, and receive 240 

Strict laws imposed, to celebrate his throne 
With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing- 
Forced hallelujahs, while he lordly sits 
Our envied Sovereign, and his altar breathes 
Ambrosial odours and ambrosial flow'rs, 245 

Our servile offerings ? This must be our task 
In Heav'n, this our delight. How wearisome 
Eternitj' so spent in worship paid 
To w^hom we hate ! Let us not then pursue 
By force impossible, by leave obtain'd 250 

Unacceptable, though in Heav'n, our state 
Of splendid vassalage ; but rather seek 
Our OAvn good from ourselves, and from our own 
Live to ourselves, though in this vast recess. 
Free, and to none accountable, preferring 255 

Hard liberty before the easy yoke 
Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear 
Then most conspicuous, when great things of small, 
Useful of hurtful, prosp'rous of adverse. 
We can create, and in what place soe'er 260 

Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain 
Through labour and endurance. This deep world 
Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst 

263. See the splendid original of this passage, Ps. xviii» 11. 13 
and Ps. xcvii. 2. 



iU)o& u. 47 

Thick clouds and dark doth Heav'n's all-ruling Sire 

Choose to reside, his glory unobscured, 265 

And with the majesty of darkness round 

Covers his throne ; from whence deep thunders roar, 

Must'ring- their rage, and Heav'n resembles Hell? 

As he our darkness, cannot we his light 

Imitate when we please 1 This desert soil '270 

Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold , 

Nor want v/e skill or art, from whence to raise 

Magnificence : and what can Heav'n shew more 1 

Our torments also may in length of time 

Become our elements ; these piercing- fires 275 

As soft as now severe, our temper changed 

Into their temper ; which must needs remove 

The sensible of pain. All things invite 

To peaceful counsels, and the settled state 

Of order, how in safety best we may 280 

Compose our present evils, v,'ith regard 

Of what we are and where, dismissing quite 

All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise. 

He scarce had fmish'd, when such murmur fill'd 
Th' assembly, as when hollow rocks retain 285 

The sound of blust'ring winds, which all night long- 
Had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull 
Seafai'ing men o'erwatch'd, whose bark by chance 
Or pinnace anchors in a craggy bay 
After the tempest. Such applause was heard 290 
As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased, 
Advising peace ; for such another field 
They dreaded worse than Hell : so much the fear 
Of thunder and the sword of Michael 
Wrought still within them ; and no less desire 285 
lo found this nether empire, which might rise 
By policy and long process of time, 
In emulation opposite to Heav'n : 
Which when Beelzebub perceived, than whom, 
Satan except, none higher sat, with grave 300 

Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd 
A pillar of state : deep on his front engraven 
Deliberation sat and public care ; 

278. Simsible is used as a substantive; a Grecian mode o< 
expression. 
282. The7-e is sometimes read instead of wliere, 

E 



48 PARADISE LOST 

And princely counsel in his face j^et shone, 
(Majestic though in ruin :isage he stood, 305 

With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear 
The weight of mightiest monarchies ; bis look 
Di'ev/ audience and attention still as night 
Or summer's noon-tide air, while thus he spake : 

Thrones and Imperial Powers, Olfspi-ing- of Hea> 'n 
Ethereal Virtues ; or these titles now 311 

Must we renounce, and changing- style be call'd 
Princes of Hell? for so the popular vote 
Inclines here to continue, and build up here 
A growing empire ; doubtless, while we dream, 31£ 
And know not that the King of Heav'n hathdoom'd 
This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat 
Beyond his potent arm, to live exempt 
From Heav'n's high jurisdiction, in new league 
Banded against his throne, but to remain 320 

In strictest bondage, though thus far removed, 
Under th' inevitable curb, reserved 
His captive multitude : for he, be sure, 
In height or depth, still first and last will reign 
Sole King, and of his kingdom lose no part 3'<iS 

By our revolt ; but over Hell extend 
His empire, and with iron sceptre rule 
Us here, as with his golden those in Heav'n. 
What sit we then projecting ? peace and war? 
War hath determined us, and foil'd with loss 330 
Irreparable : terms of peace yet none 
Vouchsafed or sought : for what peace will be giv'n 
To us enslaved, but custody severe. 
And stripes, and arbitrary punishment 
Inflicted l And what peace can we return, 335 

But to our power hostility and hate. 
Untamed reluctance, and revenge though slow. 
Yet ever plotting how the Conqu'ror least 
May reap his conquest, and may least rejoice 
In doing' what we most in suffering' feel 1 340 

Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need 
With dang'rous expedition to invade 
Heav'n, whose high walls fear no assault or siege, 

a27. The iron sceptre, is an allnsion to Ps. ii. 9. and the golden 
to F.i.ther i . 2. 



BOOK II. 49 

Or ambush from the deep. What if we find 

Some easier enterprise 1 There is a place, 345 

(If ancient and prophetic fame in Heav'n 

Err not) another world, tlie happy seat 

Of some new race call'd Man, about this time 

To be created like to ns, though less 

In pow'r and excellence, but farour'd more 350 

Of Him who rules above ; so was his will 

Pronounced among- the Gods, and by an oath. 

That shook Heav'n's whole circumference, conhrm'd. 

Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn 

What creatures tliere inhabit, of what mould 355 

Or substance, how endued, and what their pow'r. 

And where their weakness ; how attempted best. 

By force or subtlety. Though Heav'n be shut. 

And Heav'n's high Arbitrator sit secure 

In his own strength, this place may lie exposed 360 

The utmost border of his kingdom, left 

To their defence who hold it. Here perhaps 

Some advantageous act may be achieved 

By sudden onset, either with Hell fire 

To waste his whole creation, or possess 365 

All as our own, and drive, as we were driv'n, 

The puny habitants ; or if not drive, 

Seduce them to our party, that their God 

May prove their Foe, and with repenting hand 

Abolish his own works. This would surpass 370 

Common revenge, and interrupt his joy 

In our confusion, and our joy upraise 

In his disturbance ; when his darling sons, 

Hnrl'd headlong to partake with us, shall curse 

Their frail original and faded bliss, 375 

Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth 

Attempting, or to sit in darkness here 

Hatching vain empires. Thus Beelzebub 

Pleaded his dev'lish counsel, first devised 

By Satan, and in part proposed : for whence, 380 

But from the author of all ill, could spring 

So deep a malice, to confound the race 

Of mankind in one root, and Earth with Hell 

352. See Hebrews vi. 17 
367. It has been supposed that Milton used the word ptny iu 
its orig^inal sense, as derived from the French puis ne, born since. 
D 



50 PARADISE LOST. 

To mingle and involve, done all to spite 

The great Creator ? But their spite still serves 38f 

His glory to augment. The bold design 

Pleased highly those infernal States, and joy 

Sparkled in all their eyes. With full assent 

They vote ; whereat his speech he thus renews : 

Well have ye judged, well ended long debate, 390 
Synod of Gods, and like to what ye are, 
Great things resolved, which from the lowest deep 
Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate. 
Nearer our ancient seat ; perhaps in view 
Of those bright confines, whence with neighb'ring 

arms 395 

And opportune excursion, we may chance 
Re-enter Heav'n ; or else in some mild zone 
Dwell not unvisited of Heav'n's fair li,iht 
Secure, and at the bright'ning orient beam 
Purge off this gloom : the soft delicious air, 400 

To heal the scar of these corrosive fires, [send 

Shall breathe her balm. But first, whom shall we 
In search of this new world ? whom shall we find 
Sufficient? who shall 'tempt with wand'ring feet 
The dark unbottom'd infinite abyss, 405 

And through the palpable obscure find out 
His uncouth way, or spread his aery flight. 
Upborne with indefatigable wings 
Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive 
The happy isle 1 What strength, what art, can then 
Suffice, or what e/asion bear him safe 411 

Through the strict senteries and stations thick 
Of Angels watching round 1 Here he had need 
All circumspection, and we now no less 
Choice in our suffrage ; for on whom we send, 415 
The weight of all and our last hope relies. 

This said, he sat ; and expectation held 
His look suspense, awaiting who appear'd 
To second or oppose, or undertake 
The perilous attempt : but all sate mute, 420 

Pond'ring the danger with deep thoughts ; and each 

406. Palpable obscure ; this is another instance of Milton's using 
adjectives in the s^nse of substiintives. 

409 The earth is here called an island in aUusion to its hang-- 
in§- in the air, which surrounds it like a sea. The word arrive 
na*s formerly frequently used vvithout a i)reposition following. 



BOOK 11. 51 

In other's count'iiance read his own disma> 
Astonish'd. None among the choice and prime 
Of those Heav'n-warring- champions could be found 
So hardy as to proffer or accept 42,1 

Alone the dreadful voyage ; till at last 
Satan, whom now transcendent g"lory raised 
Above his fellows, with monarchal pride. 
Conscious of highest worth, unmoved, thus spake : 

O Progeny of Heav'n, empyreal Thrones, 430 

With reason hath deep silence and demur 
Seized us, though undismay'd: long is the way 
And hard that out of Hell leads up to light ; 
Our prison strong ; this huge convex of fire. 
Outrageous to devour, immures us round 435 

Ninefold, and gates of burning adamant 
Barr'd over us prohibit all egress. 
These pass'd, if any pass, the void profound 
Of unessential Night receives him next 
Wide gaping, and with utter loss of being 440 

Threatens him, plunged in that abortive gull. 
If thence he 'scape into whatever world. 
Or unknown region, what remains him less 
Than unknown dangers, and as hard escape 1 
But I should ill become this throne, O Peers, 445 
And this imperial sov'reignty, adorn'd 
With splendour, arm'd with pow'r, if aught propos'd 
And judged of public moment, in the shape 
Of difficulty or danger, could deter 
Me from attempting. W^herefoi-e do I assume 450 
These ro3^alties, and not refuse to reign, 
Refusing to accept as great a share 
Of hazard as of honour; due alike 
To him who reigns, and so much to him due 
Of hazard more, as he above the rest 455 

High honour'd sits ? Go, therefore, mighty Powers, 
Terror of Heav'n, though fall'n ; intend at home 
While here shall be our home, what best may ease 
The present misery, and render Hell 
More tolerable ; if there be cure or charm 460 

To respite, or deceive, or slack the pain 

439. Unessential ; that is, void of substance. 



52 PARADISE LOST. 

Of this ill mansion ; intermit no watch 

Against a wakeful foe, while 1 abroad 

Throngli all the coasts of dark destruction, seek 

Deliv 'ranee for us all. This enterprise 465 

None shall partake with me. llius saying rose 

The Monarch, and prevented all reply. 

Prudent, lest from his resolution raised. 

Others among the chief might offer now 

(Certain to be refused) what erst they fear'd : 470 

And so refused might in opinion stand 

His rivals, winning cheap the high repute 

Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they 

Dreaded not more th' adventure than his voice 

Forbidding ; and at once with him they rose ; 475 

Their rising all at once was as the sound 

Of thunder heard remote. Tow'rds him they bend 

With awful rev'rence prone ; and as a God 

Extol him equal to the High'st in Heav'n : 

Nor fail'd they to express how much they praised, 480 

That for the genVal spf*»^y he despised 

His own : for neither do the Spirits damn'd 

Lose all their virtue : lest bad men should boast 

Their specious deeds on earth, which glory excites, 

Or close ambition, varnish'd o'er with zeal. 485 

Thus they their doubtful consultations dark 

Ended, rejoicing in their matchless chief: 

As when from mountain-tops the dusky clouds 

Ascending, while the north wind sleeps, o'erspread 

Heav'n's cheerful face, the low'ring element 490 

Scowls o'er the darken'd landskip snow, or .«*how'r ; 

If chance the radiant Sun with farewell sweet 

Extend his ev'ning beam, the fields revive. 

The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds 

Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings. 495 

435. Milton intimates above, that the fallen and desraded state 
of man or his individual vice is not at all disproved by some of 
his external actions not appearing- totally base. The commenta- 
tors should have observed, in explaining- this passas^e, that the 
whole errand mystery on which the poem depends is the first 
fearful spiritual alienation of Satan from God, the only fountain 
of truth and all real positive good ; and that when thus sepi<j-ateci, 
whether the spirit be that of man or devil, it may perform 
actions fair in appearance but not essentially good, becau.-e 
springing from no fixed principle of good. 



BOOK II. 63 

O shame to men ! Devil with Devil danin'd 

Firm concord holds, men only disagree 

Of creatures rational, though under hope 

Of heav'nly grace : and God proclaiming peace, 

Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife 500 

Among- themselves, and levy cruel wars, 

Wasting- the earth, each other to destroy ; 

As if (which might induce us to accord) 

Man had not hellish foes enough besides, 

That day and night for his destruction wait. 505 

The Stygian council thus dissolved ; and forth 
In order came the grand infernal peers : 
'Midst came their mighty Paramount, and seem'd 
Alone th' antagonist of Heav'n, nor less 
Than Hell's dread emperor with pomp supreme, 510 
And God-like imitated state ; him round 
A globe of fiery Seraphim inclosed 
With bright emblazonry, and horrent arms. 
Then of their session ended they bid cry 
With trumpets regal sound the great result: 515 

Tow'rds the four winds four speedy Cherubim 
Put to their mouths the sounding- alchemy 
By heralds* voice explain'd ; the hollow abyss 
Heard far and v/ide, and all the host of Hell 
With deaf'ning shout return'd them loud acclaim. 520 
Thence more at ease their minds, and somewhat raised 
By false presumptuous hope, the ranged Pow'rs 
Disband, and wand'ring, each his sev'ral way 
Pursues, as inclination or sad choice 
Leads him perplex'd, where he may likeliest find 525 
Truce to his restless thoughts, and entei'tain 
The irksome hours till his great chief return. 
Part on the plain, or in the air sublime, 

496. It has been well observed, that an allusion is probably 
made here to the troubled chara<-ter of the times in which the 
author lived. 

512. A globe, or a battalion surrounding: him in a circle. — See 
Virgil, /En. x. 373. 

513- Horrent, rou^h and sharp. This epithet I imagine to 
have considerable force, b''cause it implies ilie dense and com 
Dact closeness of the globe of spirits surrounding Satan. The; 
arms were horrent, because standing out like a boar's bristle 
from tl'.is fierv body. 

517. Alchemy, a very fine metonymy for the trumpets. 

528. The occupations of the fallen spirits are conceived in the 
lighest strain both of poetry and philosophy. 



54 PARADISE LOST. 

Upon the wing, or in swift race contend, 

As at th' Olympian games or Pythian fields ; 530 

Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal 

With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form. 

As when to warn proud cities war appears 

Waged in the troubled sky, and armies rush 

To battle in the clouds, before each van 535 

Prick forth the airy knights, and couch their spears 

Till thickest legions close ; with feats of arms 

From either end of Heav'n the welkin burns. 

Others, with vast Typhoean rage more fell, 

Rend up both rocks and hills, and ride the air 540 

In whirlwind ; Hell scarce holds the wild uproar. 

As when Alcides, from Oechalia crown'd 

With conquest, felt th' eiivenom'd robe, and tore 

Througn pain up by the roots Thessalian pines, 

And Lichas from the top of Oeta threw 545 

Into th' Euboic sea. Others more mild, 

Retreated in a silent valley, sing 

With notes angelical to many a harp 

Their own heroic deeds and hapless fall 

By doom of battle ; and complain that Fate 650 

Free virtue should inthrall to force or chance. 

Their song was partial, but the harmony 

(What could it less when Spirits immortal sing ?) 

Suspended Hell, and took with ravishment 

The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet 555 

(For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense) 

Others apart sat on a hill retired. 

In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high 

Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, 

Fix'd fate, free-will, foreknowledge absolute, 560 

And found no end, in wand'ring mazes lost. 

Of good and evil much they argoied then. 

Of happiness and final misery, 

539. Typhoean— Typhceus was one of the giants who warred 
ag-ainst heaven. 

542. Alcides— Hercules, so named from his ancestor Alcaeus 
The allusion here made is familiar to every reader. 

555. It has been observed, that Milton has here shewn the 
superiority of discourse and reasoning to song, i he angeis who 
reason are on a hill ; those who sing are in a valley.— But it 
should have been observed, at the same time, that it is only when 
song is what Milton calls partial, or confined to selfish or am 
bitious themes, that it is thus inferior to, or ditTerent from Mi,7b 
philosophy. 



BOOK Lh 55 

Passion and apathy, glory and shame, 

Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy : 565 

Yet with a pleasinj^ sorcery could charm 

Pain for a while, or anguish, and excite 

Fallacious hope, or arm th' ohdured breast 

With stubborn patience as with triple steel. 

Another pai't in squadrons and g-ross bands, 570 

On bold adventure to discover wide 

That dismal world, if any clime perhaps 

Might yield them easier habitation, bend 

Four ways their flying" march, along* the banks 

Of four infernal rivers, that disgorge 575 

Into the burning lake their baleful streams ; 

^Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate ; 

( Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep); 
Cocytus, named of lamentation loud 
Heard on the rueful stream ; fierce Phleg-ethon, 580 
Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage. 
Far off from these a slow and silent stream, 

/Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls 

j Her wat'ry labyrinth ; whereof who drinks. 
Forthwith his former state and being" forg'ets, 585 
Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain. 
Beyond this flood a frozen continent 
Lies dark and wild, beat with perpetual storms 
Of whirlwind and dire hail, which on firm land 
Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems 590 
Of ancient pile ; all else deep snow and ice 
A gulf profound as that Serbonian bog 
JBetwixt Damiata and Mount Casius old, 
Where armies whole have sunk: the pai'cliing air 
Burns frore, and cold performs th' effect of fire. 595 
Thither, by harpy-footed furies haled, 

577. Milton follows the Greeks in this description of the in- 
fernal rivers ; but, as usual, improves upon the classical idea, a?- 
he represents them as emptying- themselves into a vast and fearful 
lake of fire. Styx, according to its derivation, sig-nifies hate; 
Acheron, flowing with pain; Cocytus, lamentation; Phlegethon, 
burning, and Lethe, forgetful ntss. 

592. Serbonis was a lake two hundred furlongs long, and on( 
thousand round, between Mount Casius and Damiuta, a city in 
Egvpt. It was sometimes so covered by the loose sand of the 
neighbouring lulls, as not to be distinguished from the land.— 
See Herod. 1. 3. and Lucan. viii. 539. 

595. Frore, frosty.— See Virgil, Georg. i. 93. Ecclus. x!ii. 20, 
91. Ps. cxxi. 6. 



56 PARADISE LOST. 

At certain revolutions, all the damn'd 

Are brought ; and feel by turns the bitter change 

Of fiei'ce extreraes, extremes by change more fierce, 

From beds of raging fire to starve in ice (iOO 

Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine 

Immoveable, infix'd, and frozen round. 

Periods of time, thence hurried back to fire. 

They ferry over this Lethean sound 

Both to and fro, their sorrow to augment, 005 

And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach 

The tempting stream, with one small drop to lose 

In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe, 

All in one moment, and so near the brink ; 

But Fate withstands, and to oppose th' attempt 010 

Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards 

The ford, and of itself the water flies 

All taste of living wight, as once it fled 

The lip of Tantalus. Thus roving on 

In confused march forlorn, th' advent'rous bands 615 

With shudd' ring horror pale, and eyes aghast, 

View'd first their lamentable lot, and found 

No rest. Through many a dark and dreary vale 

They pass'd, and many a region dolorous. 

O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, 620 

Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of 

death, 
A universe of death, which God by curse 
Created evil, for evil only good. 
Where all life dies, death lives, and natui*e breeds. 
Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things, 625 
Abominable, inutterable, and worse 
Than fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceived, 
Gorgons and Hydras, and Chima^ras dire. 

Meanwhile the adversary' of God and Man, 
Satan, with thoughts inflamed of hiih'st design, 63b 
Puts on swift wings, and tow'rds the gates of Hell 
Explores his solitary flight Sometimes 
He scours the right hand coast, sometimes the left. 
Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars 
Up to the fiery concave tow'ring high. 63,^ 

603. See Job xxiv. in the Vulg'ate translation.— See also Shak- 
cpeare Measure for Measure, Act iii. 

611. Medusa, one of the Gor^oa monsters. 



BOOK II. o? 

As when far off at sea a fleet descry'd 

Hano-s in the clouds, by equinoctial winds 

Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles 

Of Ternate and Tidore, whence merchants bring- 

Their spicy drugs ; they on the trading flood 640 

Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape 

Ply stemming nightly tow'rd the pole. So seem'd 

Far off the flying Fiend : at last appear 

Hell bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof, 

And thrice threefold the gates ; three folds were brass, 

Three iron, three of adamantine rock, 646 

Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire, 

Yet unconsumed. Before the gates there sat 

On either side a formidable shape ; 

The one seem'd woman to the waist, and fair, C50 

But ended foul in many a scaly fold 

Voluminous and vast, a serpent arm'd 

With mortal sting* : about her middle round 

A cry of Hell-hounds never ceasing-, bark'd 

With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung 655 

A hideous peal : yet, when they list, would creep. 

If aught disturb'd their noise, into her womb. 

And kennel there, yet there still bark'd and howl'd. 

Within unseen. Far less abhorr'd than these 

Vex'd Scylla, bathing in the sea that parts 660 

Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore ; 

Nor uglier follow the night-hag, when call'd 

In secret, riding througis the aii* she comes, 

Lui'ed with the smell of iiit.int blood, to dance 



6;J6. A noble comparison. But Dr. Bentley asks why would not 
one ship do as well as a fleet? It has been answered, that many 
shijjs are a more noble fig-ure than one. This, however, is only 
the case when so seen at a distaice, that they may ai)pear as one 
g-rand, dark, and sublime object. Ternate and Tidore are two of 
the Molucca Islands. 

648. This is one of the most sublime passag-es in. the poem. 
Addison is g-enerally ingenious in his criticisms, but not elevated, 
and when he objected to Milton's having- introduced an alleg-ory 
he shews that he was incapable of entering- into the mairnirtcenl 
conceptions of his author. Sin and Death are not alleg-orioai 
oeingrs in Paradise Lost; but real and active existences. They 
would have been allegorical, speaking- or contending among men', 
but are not so in an abode or spirits, and addressing Ihe Prince 
of darkness, see James i. 15. 

661. Calabria, the extreme part of Italv towards the Mediter 
tauean. Trinacria, an ancient name of Sicily. 
D2 



58 PARADi£E LOST. 

With Lapland witches, while the lab'ring moon 665 

Eclipses at their charms. The other shape. 

If shape it might be call'd that shape had none 

Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb. 

Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd, 

For each seem'd either ; black it stood as Night, 670 

Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell, 

And shook a dreadful dart. What seem'd his head 

The likeness of a kingly crown had on. 

Satan was now at hand, and from his seat. 

The monster moving- onward, came as fast C75 

With horrid strides, Hell trembled as he strode. 

Th* undaunted Fiend what this might be admired — 

Admired, not fear'd : God and his Son except, 

Created thing- nought valued he nor shunn'd ; 

And with disdainful look thus first began : 680 

Whence and what art thou, execrable shape. 
That darest, though grim and terrible, advance 
Thy miscreated front athwart my way 
To yonder gates 1 Through them I mean to pass. 
That be assured, without leave ask'd of thee : 685 
Retire or taste thy folly, and learn by proof. 
Hell-born, not to contend v/ith Spirits of Heav'n. 

To whom the goblin full of wrath reply'd. 
Art thou that traitor Angel, art thou He, 
Who first broke peace in Heav'n and faith, till then 
Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms 691 

Drew after him the third part of Heav'n's sons. 
Conjured against the High'st, for which both thou 
And they, outcast from God, are here condemn'd 
To waste eternal days in woe and pain 1 695 

And reckon'st thou thyself with Spirits of Heav'n, 
Hell-doom'd, and breath'st defiance here and scorn 
Where I reign king-, and to enrage thee more, 
Thy king- and lord 1 Back to thy punishment. 
False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, 70D 

665. It was formerly believed that the moon might be afiected 
by incantations. 

666. See Spenser, Faery Queen, Book vii. C. 7. 46. 

678. The word except is here used with the same latitude as but 
in ver. 333. 336. 

093. Conjured, from the Latin ronjnrare, to conspire or leaguf 
•og'ether. 



BOOK II. 59 

Lest witli a whip of scoi'pions I pursue 

Thy iing'nng, or with one stroke of this dart 

Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt befoie. 

So spake the grisly terror, and in shape, 
So speaking, and so threat'ning-, grew tenfold 705 
More dreadful and deform. On th' other side, 
Incensed with indignation, Satan stood 
Unterrify'd, and like a comet burn'd. 
That fires the length of Ophinchus huge 
In th' arctic sky, and from his hoi-rid hair 710 

Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head 
Levell'd his deadly aim ; their fatal hands 
No second stroke intend, and such a frown 
Each cast at th' other, as when two black clouds. 
With Heav'n's artill'ry fraught, come rattling on 715 
Over the Caspian ; then stand front to front 
Hov'ring a space, till winds the signal blow 
To join their dark encounter in mid-air. 
So frown'd the mighty combatants, that Hell 
Gi'ew darker at their frown, so mateh'd they stood : 
For neA'er but once more was either like 721 

To meet so great a foe : and now great deeds 
Had been achieved, whereof all Hell had rung, 
Had not the snaky sorceress that sat 
Fast by Hell gate, and kept tbe fatal key, 725 

Ris'n, and with hideous outcry rush'd between. 

O Father, what intends thy hand, she cry'd, 
Ag-ainst thy only Son ? What fury, O Son, 
Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart 
Against thy Father's head ? and know'st for whom? 
For Him who sits above and laughs the while 731 
At thee ordain'd his drudge, to execute 
Whate'er his wrath, which he calls justice, bids: 
His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both. 

She spake, and at her words the hellish pest 735 
Forbore ; then these to her Satan return'd. 

So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange 
Thou interposest, that my sudden hand 
Prevented, spares to tell thee yet by deeds 
What it intends, till first I know of thee, 740 

709. Ophiuchus, or Serpentarius, a northern constellation, 
716. The Caspian was noticed for behvj, tempfstuoug, 
T22. Jesu's Chri.it is here meant. 



60 PARADISE LOST. 

What thing thou art, thus double-form'd, and why 

In this infernal vale first met thou call'st 

Me Father, and that phantasm call'st my Son ; 

I know thee not, nor ever saw till now 

Sight more detestable than him and thee. 743 

T' whom thus the portress of Hell gate reply'd : 
Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem 
Now in thine eyes so foul 1 once deem'd so fair 
In Heav'n, when at th' assembly, and in sight 
Of all the Seraphim with thee combined 750 

In bold conspiracy against Heav'n's King, 
All on a sudden miserable pain 
Surprised thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzy swum 
In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast 
Threw forth, till on tlie left side op'ning wide, 755 
Likest to thee in shape and count'nance bright, 
Then shining heav'nly fair, a Goddess arm'd 
Out of thy head I sprung ; amazement seized 
All th' host of Heav'n ; back they recoil'd, afraid 
At first, and call'd me Sin, and for a sign 760 

Portentous held me ; but familiar grown 
I pleased, and with attractive graces won 
The most averse, thee chiefly, who full oft 
Thyself in me thy perfect image viewing 
Becam'st enamour'd, and such joy thou took'st 765 
With me in secret, that my womb conceived 
A growing burthen. Meanwhile war arose, 
And fields were fought in Heav'n ; wherein remain'd 
(For what could else 1) to our Almiglity Foe 
Clear victory ; to our part loss and rout 770 

Through all the empyrean. Down they fell, 
Driv'n headlong from the pitch of Heav'n, down 
Into this deep, and in the general fall 
I also ; at which time this powerful key 
Into my hand was giv'n, with charge to keep 775 
These gates for ever shut; which none can pass 
Without my op'ning. Pensive here I sat 
Alone ; but long I sat not, till my womb 
Pregnant by thee, and nov/ excessive grown. 
Prodigious motion felt and rueful throes. , 780 

At last this odious offspring whom thou seest 

758. This is imitated from the mythological fable of Miiierva 
springing from the head of Jupiter. 



BOOK li. 61 

Thine own begotten, breaking violent v/ay, 

Tore through my entrails, that with fear and pain 

Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew 

Transform'd : but he my inbred enemy 783 

Forth issued, brandishing his fatal dart, 

Made to destroy. I fled, and cry'd out Death ; 

Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sigh'd 

From all her caves, and back resounded Death. 

I fled, but he pursued (though more, it seems, TOf. 

Inflamed with lust than rage), and swifter far. 

Me overtook his mother all dismay'd, 

And in embraces forcible and foul 

Ingend'ring with me, of that rape begot 

These yelling monsters, that with ceaseless cry 71)5 

Surround me^as thou saw'st, hourly conceived 

And hourly born, with sorrow inlinite 

To me ; for when they list, into the womb 

That bred them they return, and howl and gnaw 

My bowels, their repast ; then bursting- forth 800 

Afresh with conscious terrors vex me roinid, 

That rest or intermission none I find. 

Before mine eyes in opposition sits 

Grim Death, my son and foe, who sets them on. 

And me, his parent, would full soon devour 805 

For want of other prey, but that he knows 

His end with mine involved; and knows that 1 

Should prove a bitter morsel, and bis bane, 

Whenever that shall be. So Fate pronounced. 

But thou, O Father, I forewarn thee, shun 810 

His deadly arrow ; neither vainly hope 

To be invulnerable in those bright arms, 

Though temper'd heav'nly, for that mortal dint, 

Save He who reigns above, none can resist. 

She finish 'd, and the subtle Fiend his lore 815 

Soon learn'd, now milder, and thus answer'd smooth. 
Dear Daughter, since thou claim'st me for thy sire. 
And my fair son here show'st me, the dear pledge 
Of dalliance had with thee in Heav'n, and joys 
Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change 
Befall'n us unforeseen, unthought of; knov/ 821 

I come no enemy, but to set free 
From out this dark and dismal house of pain 
789. See Virgil, lEu. ii, .53. 



62 PARADISE X.OST. 

Both him and thee, and all the heav'nly host 

Of Spirits, that in our just pretences arm'd 826 

Fell with us from on hig-h : from them I g-o 

This uncouth errand sole, and one for all 

Myself expose, with lonely steps to tread 

Th' unfounded deep, and through the void immense 

To search with wand'ring quest a place foretold 830 

Should be, and, by concurring- signs, ere now 

Created vast and round, a place of bliss 

In the purlieus of Heav'n, and therein placed 

A race of upstart creatures to supply 

Perhaps our vacant room, though more removed, 835 

Lest Heav'n surcharged with potent multitude 

Might hap to move new broils : Be this or aught 

Than this more secret now design'd, I haste 

To know, and this once known, shall soon return, 

And bring- ye to the place where thou and Death 84t 

Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen 

Wing silently the buxom air, embalm'd 

With odours : there ye shall be fed and fill'd 

Immeasurably, all things shall be your prey. 

He ceased,for both seem'd highlypleased; and Deatb 
Grinn'd horrible a ghastly smile, to hear 8i > 

His famine should be iill'd, and blest his maw 
Destined to that good hour: no less rejoiced 
His mother bad, and thus bespake her sire ; 

The key of this infernal pit by due, 8^0 

And by command of Heav'n's all-pow'rful King, 
I keep, by him forbidden to unlock 
These adamantine gates ; against all force 
Death ready stands to interpose his dart, 
Fearless to be o'ermatch'd by living might. 855 

But what owe I to his commands above 
Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down 
Into this gloom of Tartarus profound. 
To sit in hateful office here confined, 
Inhabitant of Heav'n, and heav'nly born, 850 

Here in perpetual agony and pain, 
^\ ith terrors and with clamours compass'd round 
Ct mine own brood, that on my bowels feed? 

M'i. Buxom ; not ae Newton would interpret it, flexible or 
yielding', but cheerfui or inspiring^ cheerfulness by the odouri 
and niiisic with which it is filled. 



BOOK II. 63 

Thou art my father, thou ray author, thou 
My being g-av'st me ; whom should I obey 865 

But thee, whom follow? thou wilt bring- me soon 
To that new world of light and bliss, among 
The Gods who live at ease, where I shall reign 
At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems 
Thy daughter and thy darling, without end. 870 

Thus saying, from her side the fatal key, 
Sad instrument of all our woe, she took ; 
And tow'rds the gate rolling her bestial train, 
Forthwith the huge portcullis high up-drew, 
Which but herself, not all the Stygian pow'rs 87.') 
Could once have moved; then in the key-hole turns 
Th' intricate wards, and ev'ry bolt and bar 
Of massy iron or solid rock with ease 
Unfastens. On a sudden open fly 
With impetuous recoil and jarring sound 880 

Th' infernal doors, and on their hinges grate 
Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook 
Of Erebus. She open'd ; but to shut 
Excell'd her pow'r : the gates wide open stood, 
That with extended wings a banner'd host 885 

Under spread ensigns marching might pass through 
With horse and chariots rank'd in loose array ; 
So wide they stood, and like a furnace mouth 
Cast forth redounding- smoke and ruddy flame. 
Before their eyes in sudden view appear 890 

The secrets of the hoary deep, a dark 
Illimitable ocean, without bound. 
Without dimension,where length, breadth, and highth, 
And time, and place, are lost; where eldest Night 
And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold 895 

Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise 
Of endless wars, and by conftsision stand. 
For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce 
Strive here for mast'ry, and tc battle bring' 
Their embryon atoms ; they around the flag 900 

Of each his faction, in their sev'ral clans, 
Light-arm'd or heavy, sharj), smooth, swift, or slow, 
Swarm populous, unnumber'd as the sands 
Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil. 
Levy'd to side with warring winds, and poise 905 

901. i'.nrca and Cvrena \vci-e a oiiv and province of Lvbia. 
1? 



64 PARADISE LOST. 

Their lighter win^^s. To whom these most adhere- 

He rules a momeni Chaos umpire sits, 

And by decision moi e embroils the fray 

By which he reigns : next him high arbiter 

Chance governs all. Into this wild abyss, 91 (J 

The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave, 

Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor lire, 

But all these in their pregnant causes mix'd 

Confus'dly, and which thus must ever fight, 

Unless th' Almighty Maker them ordain 915 

His dark materials to create more worlds ; 

Into this wild abyss the wary Fiend 

Stood on the brink of Hell and look'd a while, 

Pond'ring his voyage ; for no narrow frith 

He had to cross. Nor was his ear less peal'd .920 

With noises loud and ruinous (to compare 

Great things with small) than when Bellona storms 

With all her batt'ring engines bent, to raze 

Some capital city ; or less than ii this frame 

Of Heav'n were falling, and these elements 925 

In mutiny had from her axle torn 

The stedfast earth. At last his sail-broad vans 

He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoke 

Uplifted spurns the ground; thence many a league, 

As in a cloudy chair, ascending rides 930 

Audacious ; but that seat soon failing, meets 

A vast vacuity : all unawares 

Flutt'ring his pennons vain, plumb down he drops 

Ten thousand fathom deep, and to this hour 

Down had been falling, had not by ill chance, 935 

The strong rebuff of some tumultuous cloud. 

Instinct with fire and nitre, hurried him 

As many miles aloft : that fury stay'd, 

Quench'd in a boggy Syrtis, neither sea. 

Nor good dry land : nigh founder'd on he fares, 940 

Treading the crude consistence, half on foot. 

Half flying ; behoves him now both oar and sail. 

As when a gryphon through the wilderness 

933. Pennons, commonly spelt pinions. 

941. There is much in this description similar to that in 
Spenser of the dragon. 

943. A gryphon is a fab«;Jous creature said to guard gold mi nee, 
In its upper part it was like an eagle, in its lower like a lion, 
The Ariniaspians were a one-eyed people of Scytliiu. 



BOOK It. 65 

With wing-ed course, o'er hill or moory dale, 
Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth 9-15 

Had from his wakeful custody purloin'd 
The g-uarded gold : so eagerly the Fiend [rare^ 

O'er bog, or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or 
With head, hands, wings, or feet pursues his way. 
And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies : 
At length a universal hubbub wild 951 

Of stunning sounds and voices all confused. 
Borne through the hollow dark, assaults his ear 
With loudest vehemence : thither he plies. 
Undaunted to meet there whatever Pow'r 955 

Or Spirit of the nethermost abyss 
Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask 
Which way the nearest coast of darkness lies 
Bord'ring on light; when strait behold the throne 
Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread 96C 

Wide on the wasteful deep ; with him enthroned 
Sat sable-vested !Night, eldest of things. 
The consort of his reigTi ; and by them stood 
Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name 
Of Demogorgon ; Rumour next and Chance, 9Ga 
And Tumult and Confusion, all embroil 'd. 
And Discord, with a thousand various mouths. 

T' whom Satan turning boldly, thus : Ye Pow'rs 
And Spirits of this nethei-most abyss. 
Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy, 970 

With purpose to explore or to disturb 
The secrets of your realm, but by constraint 
Wand'ring this darksome desert, as my way 
Lies through your spacious empire up to light, 
Alone, and without guide, half lost, I seek 975 

What readiest path leads where your gloomy bounds 
Confine with Heav'n ; or if some other place 
From your dorhinion won, th' ethereal King- 
Possesses lately, thither to arrive 
I travel this profound ; direct my course ; 980 

Directed no mean recompense it brings 
To your behoof, if I that region lost. 
All usurpation thence expell'd, reduce 

964. Orcus or Pluto, so called by the ancients. Ades may be 
taken for any dark place. 

965. A deity arnon^- the ancients whose name they supposed 
capable of producing- the most terrible effects. 



€6 PARADISE LOST. 

To her original darkness and your sway 
(Which is my present journey), and once moie 9SJ 
Erect the standard there of ancient Night; 
Yours be th' advantage all, mine the revenge. 

Thus Satan ; and him thus the Anarch old. 
With fault'ring speech and visage incomposed, 
Answer'd: I know thee, stranger, who thou art; 990 
That mighty leading Angel, who of late 
Made head against Heav'n's King, though over- 
thrown. 
I saw and heard ; for such a num'rous host 
Fled not in silence through the frighted deep 
With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, 995 

Confusion worse confounded; and Heav'n gates 
Pour'd out by millions her victorious bands 
Pursuing. I upon my frontiers here 
Keep residence ; if all 1 can will serve 
That little which is left so to defend, 1000 

Encroach'd on still through your intestine broils, 
Weak'ning the sceptre of old Night : first Hell 
Your dungeon stretching far and wide beneath ; 
Now lately Heav'n and Earth, another world. 
Hung o'er my realm, link'd in a golden chain 1003 
To that side Heav'n from v/hence your legions fell : 
If that way be your walk, you have not far; 
So much the nearer danger; go and speed; 
Havock, and spoil, and ruin, are my gain. 

He ceased, and Satan stay'd not to reply ; 1010 
But glad that now his sea should find a shore, 
With fresh alacrity and force renew'd. 
Springs upward like a pyramid of fire 
Into the wild expanse, and throug'h the shock 
Of fighting elements, on ail sides round 3i"15 

Environ'd, wins his way; harder beset 
And more endanger'd than when Argo pass'd 
Through Bosphoi'us, betv/ixt the justling rocks ; 
Or when Ulysses on the larboard shunn'd 

1005. Homer meutio.'.is a g'oldea chain by which Jupiter coiiid 
draw up the eartli, &c. — See Iliad, book 8. 

1011. A nitlaphor to express his satisfaction at concluding his 
journey. 

1017. Ar^o was the ship in wliich Jason and his companions 
sailed to Colchis, in search of the golden Heece. Bosphorm is ihe 
nan.e of the Straits of Constantinople, or the cliunnfl of t!ie 
Black Sea. 



BOOK II. 67 

Charybdis, and by tb' other whirlpool steer'd. 1020 

So he with difficulty and labour hard 

Moved on, with difficulty and labour he ; 

But he once past, soon after when man fell, 

Strang-e alteration! Sin and Death amain 

Following- his track, such was the will of Heav'n, . 

Paved after him a broad and beaten way 1020 

Over the dark abyss, whose boiling- gulf 

Tamely en lured a bridge of wondi-ous length 

From Hell continued reaching th' utmost orb 

Of this frail world; by which the Spirits perverse 

With easy intercourse pass to and fro, 1031 

To tempt or punish mortals, except whom 

God and good Angels guard by special grace. 

But now at last the sacred influence 

Of light appears, and from the walls of Heav'n 1035 

Shoots far into the bosom of dim Night 

A glimm'ring dawn. Here Nature first begins 

Her farthest verge, and Chaos to retire 

As from her outmost works a broken foe 

With tumult less, and with less hostile din, 1040 

That Satan with less toil, and now with ease, 

Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light, 

And like a weather-beaten vessel holds 

Gladly the port, though shrouds and tackle torn ; 

Or in the emptier waste, resembling air, 1045 

Weighs his spread wings, at leisure to behold 

Far off th* empyreal Heav'n, extended wide 

In circuit, undetermined square or round. 

With opal tow'rs and battlements adorn 'd 

Of living sapphire, once his native seat ; 1050 

And fast by hanging in a golden chain 

This pendent world, in bigness as a star 

Of smallest magnitude close by the moon. 

Thither full fraught with mischievous reveng:e, 

Accursed, and in a cursed hour he hies. 1055 

1020. Charyhdis, a dang-erous part of the sea between Messina 
and Italy. 

1023. Dr. Bentley supposes eleven lines to be inserted here b-/ 
the Editor of Milton ; but if the passasre be examined, it will be 
seen they cannot be an interpolation. His stroiig-est objection is, 
that die bridge is described a^ain in Book X. 

1052. Bv the pendent world is meant the whole new creation 
of heaven and earth. See verse 1004. 



BOOK III. 
THE ARGUMENT. 

God, sitting' on his throne, sees Satan flyina: towards tins world, 
then newly created ; shews him to the Son ^vho sat at his riglit 
hand; foret« lis the successor Satan in perverting mankind ; clears 
hU own justice and wisdom from ail imputation, having- created 
Man free and able enough to have withstood his tempter; yet 
declares his purpose of grace towards him, in regard he fell not 
of his own malice, as did Satan, but by him seduced. The Son 
of God renders praises to his Father for the manifestation of his 
gracious purpose towards Man ; but God again declares, that 
grace cannot be extended towards Man without tlie satisfaction 
of divine justice : Man hath oflended the Majesty of God by a^^pir- 
ing to Godhead, and tlierefore, with all his progeny, devoted to 
death, must die, unless some one can be found sufficient to answer 
for his offence, and undergo his punishment. The Son of God 
freely offers himself a ransom for Man : the Father accepts him, 
ordains his incarnation, pronounces his exaltation above all names 
in Heaven and Earth; commands all the Angels to adore him : 
they obey, and hymning to their harps in full choir, celebrate the 
Father and the Son. Meanwhile Satan alights upon the bare con- 
vex of this world's outermost orb ; where wandering he first finds 
a place, since called the Limbo of Vanity : what persons and 
things fly up thither: thence comes to the gate of Heaven, de- 
scribed ascending by stairs, and the waters above the firmament 
that flow about it: His passage thence to the orb of the Sun ; he 
rinds there Uriel, the regent of that orb, but first changes him- 
self into the shape of a meaner Angel; and pretending a zealous 
<icsire to behold the new creation, and Man whom God had placed 
here, inquires of him the place of his habitation, and is directed : 
alights first on Mount Niphates. 

Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heav'n first-boni. 

Or of th' Eternal coeternal beam, 

May I express thee unblamed'? since God is Light, 

And never but in unapproached light 

Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, 5 

Bright effluence of bright essence increate. 

Or hear'st thou rather, pure ethereal stream, 

Whose fountain who shall tell ? Before the Sun, 

Before the Heav'ns thou v/ert, and at the voice 

Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest 10 

The rising world of waters dark and deep, 

Won from the void and formless infinite. 

Thee I revisit now with bolder wing, 

1. This transition from the fearful gloom and confusion of Hell 
and Chaos to the worlds of light has a magnificent effect upon the 
mind. The toueh of sweet and holy feeling with which the Au- 
Ihor alludes to his own personal sorrow heightens, i-ather than 
diminishes, the impression of awe and delisrht. 

3. See 1 John i. 5. and 1 Tim. vi. 16. 

6. See Book of Wisdom, vii. 25, 26. 

12. Void, not em{)tv, but chaos-like 



(Tl 
T] 



BCJOK III. 69 

Escaped the Stygian pool, though long detain'd 
In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight 15 

Through utter and through middle darkness borne 
With other notes than to th' Orphean lyre 
I sung of Chaos and eternal Night, 
Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down 
The dai'k descent, and up to re-ascend, 20 

Though hard and rare : thee I revisit safe. 
And feel thy sov'reign vital lamp:! but thou\ 
(Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll m vain \ 
' To iind thy piercing ray, and find no dawn ; 
So thick a drop serene hath quench'd their orbs, 25 
Or dim suftusion veil'd. Yet not the more 
Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt 
Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, 
Smit with the love of sacred song ; but chief 
Thee, Sion, and the flow'ry brooks beneath, 30 

That v/ash thy hallow'd feet, and warbling flow, 
Nightly I visit :lnor sometimes forget 
^hose other two^quall'd with me in fate. 
So were I equall'd with them in renown. 
Blind Thamyris and blind Maeonides, 35 

And Tiresias and Phineus prophets old : 
Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move 
Harmonious numbers ;|as the wakeful bird 
Sings darkling, and in Shadiest covert hid 
Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the year 40 
Seasons return, but not to me returns 
Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, 
Or siglit of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, 
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; 
j But cloud instead, and ever-during dark 45 

', Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men 
VCut oflland for the Book of knowledge fair 
Presented with an universal blank 
Of Nature's works, to me expunged and rased, 

17. Orpheus composed a hymn to night. 
30. The brooks here mentioned were Kedron and Siloah. 
35. Tiianiyris, a poet mentioned in Homer, 11. ii. 595. M<eo- 
nides, Hor. er, so named from his father Maeon. Tiresias was 3l 
rheban, and Phineus a liing' of Arcadia, both blind poets. 
37. The melody of the verse is here particularly observable. 
49. Rased, from the Latin radere, to rub out, in allusion fo the 
manner in which the ancients, who wrote on waxen tablets, ob- 
'iterated writing'. 



10 PARADISE LOST. 

And Wisdom at one entrance quite sliut out. 50 

So mucli the rather thou, celestial Light, 

Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers 

Irradiate, there plant eyes ; all mist from thence 

Purg-e and disperse, that I may sec and tell 

Of things invisible to mortal sight. 55 

Now had th' Almighty Father from above, 
From the pure empyrean where he sits 
High throned above all highth, bent down his eye. 
His own works and their works at once to view : 
About him all the sanctities of Heav'n 60 

Stood thick as stars, and from his sight received 
Beatitude past utterance ; on his riglit 
The radiant image of his glory sat. 
His only Son : on earth he fii'st beheld 
Our two first parents, yet the only two 66 

Of mankind, in the happy garden placed, 
Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love. 
Uninterrupted joy, unrivail d love, 
In blissful solitude. He then survey'd 
Hell and the gulf between, and Satan there JD 

Coasting the wall of Heav'n on this side Night, 
In the dun air sublime, and ready now 
To stoop with wearied wings and willing feet 
On the bare outside of this world, that seem'd 
Firm land embosom'd, without firmament, 75 

Uncertain which, in ocean or in air. 
Him God beholding from his prospect high, 
Wherein past, present, future, he beholds. 
Thus to his only Son foreseeing spake : 

Only begotten Son, seest thou what rage M 

Transports oar Adversary *? whom no bounds 
Prescribed, no bars of Hell, nor all the chains 
Heap'd on him there, nor yet the main abyss 
Wide interrupt can hold ; so bent he seems 

52. It is observed, that the same idea occurs in Milton's Prose 
Works. He probably alluded to E]ili. i. 18. 

56. Tasso may h-j.ve been translated here.— Canto 1. st. 7. 

62. See Heb. i. 3. also Tasso, Canto 9. st. 55. 

80. Addison has judicious v observed, that it is not the imagina- 
tion of Milton which is so much to be looked for in these speeches 
as his learning-. The one could not be safely trusted in fifiving a 
living- lang^uag-e to the wisdom of the Almig-hty. Notwitiistanding 
this, however, almost every passage of the kind is remarkable for 
great dignity and grandeur. 



BOOK III. 71 

On desperate reveng-e, that shall redound 85 

Upon his own rebellious head. And now. 

Through all restraint broke loose, he wings his way 

Not far off Heav'n, in the precincts of light. 

Directly tow'rds the new-created world. 

And man there placed, with purpose to assay 90 

! f him by force he can destroy, or worse. 

By some false guile pervert ; and shall pervert, 

For Man will hearken to his giozing lies, 

\nd easily transgress the sole command, 

Sole pledge of his obedience : So will fall, 95 

He and his faithless progeny. Whose fault 1 

Whose but his own ? Ingrate, he had of me 

All he could have ; I made him just and right, 

Saiiicient to have stood, though free to fall. 

Such I created all th' ethereal Pow'rs 100 

And Spirits, both them who stood and them who fail'd ; 

Freely they stood, who stood, — and fell, who fell. 

Not free, what proof could they have giv'n sincere 

Of true allegiance, constant faith, or love, 

Where only what they needs must do appear'd, 105 

Not what they would ? what praise could they receive ? 

What pleasure I from such obedience paid. 

When will and reason (reason also is choice) 

Useless and vain, of freedom both despoil'd, 

Made passive both, had served necessity, 110 

Not me ? They therefore as to right belong'd, 

So were created, nor can justly accuse 

Their Maker, or their making, or their fate, 

As if predestination over-ruled 

Their will, disposed by absolute decree 115 

Or high foreknowledge ; they themselves decreed 

Their own revolt, not I. If I foreknew, 

Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault, 

Which had no less proved certain unforeknown. 

So without least impulse or shadow of fate, 120 

Or aught by me immutably foreseen, 

They trespass, authors to themselves in all 

Both what they judge and what they choose ; for so 

L form'd them free, and free they must remain. 

Till they enthrall themselves ; I else must change 

: 17. If is here used in the sense of though. 



72 PARADISE LOST. 

Their liuture, and revoke the high decree 126 

Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain'd 
Their freedom, they themselves ordain'd their fall. 
The first sort by their own sug-g-estion fell. 
Self-tempted, self-depraved : Man falls, deceived 130 
By th' other first: Man therefore shall find grace, 
The other none : in mercy' and justice both. 
Through Heav'n and Earth, so shall my glory' excel. 
But mercy first and last shall brightest shine- 
Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance fill'd 
All Heav'n, and in the blessed Spirits elect 136 

Sense of new joy ineflable diffused. 
Beyond compare the Son of God was seen 
Most glorious ; in him all his Father shone 
Substantially express'd ; and in his face 140 

Divine compassion visibly appear'd, 
Love without end, and without measure grace ; 
Which utt'ring, thus he to his Father spake : 

O Father, gracious was that word which closed 
Thy sov'reign sentence, that Man should find grace : 
For which both Heav'n and Earth shall high extol 146 
Thy praises, with th' innumerable sound 
Of hymns and sacred songs, wherewith thy throne 
Encompass'd shall resound thee ever blest. 
For should Man finally be lost, should Man, 150 

Thy creature late so loved, thy youngest son, 
Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though join'd 
With his own folly 1 that be from thee far, 
That far be from thee, Father, who art Judge 
Of all things made, and judgest only right. 155 

Or shall the Adversary thus obtain 
His end, and frustrate thine ? Shall he fulfil 
His malice, and thy goodness bring to nought. 
Or proud return, though to his heavier doom. 
Yet with revenge accomplished, and to Hell 160 

Draw after him the whole race of mankind 
By him cori'upted ? Or, wilt thou thyself 
Abolish thy creation, and unmake. 
For him, what for thy glory thou hast made ? 

135. A difference is here marked in the effect which Homer 
and Milton attribute to the speeches of their several Dfiities, 
the one raalsinsr terror, the odier delig-ht, the consequence. 
140. See Hel^ i. 3. 153. See Gen. xviii. 25. 



BOOK III. 73 

So should thy g'oodness and thy greatness both \65 
Be question'd and blavSphemed without defence. 

To whom the great Creator thus reply 'd : 
O Son, in whom my soul hath chief delight, 
Son of my bosom, Son who art alone 
My word, my wisdom, and effectual might, 170 

All hast thou spoken as my thoughts are ; all 
As my eternal purpose hath decreed. 
Man shall not quite be lost, but saved who will, 
Yet not of will in him, but grace in me 
Freely vouchsafed. Once more I will renew 17/5 
His lapsed pow'rs, though forfeit and enthrall'd 
By sin to foul exorbitant desires : 
Upheld by me, yet once more he shall stand 
On even ground against his mortal foe, 
By me upheld, that he may know how frail 180 

His fall'n condition is, and to me owe 
All his deliv'rance, and to none but me 
Some I have chosen of peculiar grace 
Elect above the rest ; so is my will : 
The rest shall hear me call, and oft be warn'd IS/J 
Their sinful state, and to appease betimes 
Th' incensed Deity, while offer'd grace 
Invites ; for I will clear their senses dark. 
What may suffice, and soften stony hearts 
To pray, repent, and bring obedience due. 190 

To pray'r, repentance, and obedience due. 
Though but endeavour'd with sincere intent, 
Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut. 
And I will place within them as a guide 
My umpire Conscience ; whom if they will hear, 195 
Light after light well used they shall attain. 
And, to the end persisting, safe arrive. 
This my long suff'rance and my day of grace 
They who neglect and scoi'n, shall never taste ; 
But hard be harden'd, blind be blinded more, 200 
That they may stumble on, and deeper fall : 
And none but such from mercy I exclude. 
But yet all is not done : Man disobeying, 
Disloyal breaks his fealty, and sins 
Against the High Supremacy of Heav'n, 205 

168. The reader will find Jesus Clsrist addressed by these 

titles in different parts of Scripture. 

E 



74 PARADISE LOST. 

Affecting Godhead, and so losing all, 

To expiate his treason hath nought left. 

But to destruction sacred and devote. 

He, with his whole posterity, must die ; 

Die he or justice must , unless for him 210 

Some other able, and as willing-, pay 

The rig-id satisfaction, death for death. 

Say, heav'nly Pow'rs, where shall we find such love 1 

Which of ye will be mortal to redeem 

Man's mortal crime, and just th' unjust to save ? 215 

Dwells in all Heaven charity so dear? 

He ask'd ; but all the heav'nly choir stood mute, 
And silence was in Heav'n : on Man's behalf 
Patron or intercessor none appear'd. 
Much less that durst upon his own head draw 220 
The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set. 
And now without redemption all mankind 
Must have been lost, adjudged to Death and Hell 
By doom severe, had not the Son of God, 
In whom the fulness dwells of love divine, 225 

His dearest meditation thus renew'd : 

Father, thy word is past, Man shall find grace ; 
And shall grace not find means, that finds her way, 
The speediest of thy winged messengers. 
To visit all thy creatures, and to all 230 

Comes unprevented, unimplored, unsought 1 
Happy for man, so coming- : he her aid 
Can never seek, once dead in sins and lost : 
Atonement for himself or off'ring meet. 
Indebted and undone, hath none to bring. 235 

Behold me then ; me for him, life for life 
1 offer : on me let thine anger fall ; 
Account me Man : I for his sake will leave 
Thy bosom, and this glory next to thee 
Freely put off, and for him lastly die 241 

Well pleased : on me let Death wreck, all his rage : 
Under his gloomy pow'r I shall not long 
Tiie vanquish*d : thou hast given me to possess 

215. See 1 Peter iii. 18. 217. See Rev. viii. 1. 

231. Unprevented ; prevent is here used accorlinar to its sense 
In the Latin prcevenire, to come before ; not preceded by any thing 
fels^ It is used in this manner in one of tlie prayers of our Li- 
turgy, * Prevent us, O Lord, in all our doiniifs,' ^c. that, is, Let tlsy 
trrace fii tiripate us in our designs, and so make them just and holy. 



BOOK III 75 

Life in myself for ever; by thee T live, 

Though now to Death I yield, and am his due 245 

All that of me can die ; yet that debt paid. 

Thou wilt not leave me in the loathsome grave 

His prey, nor suffer my unspotted soul 

For ever with corruption there to dwell; 

But I shall rise victorious, and subdue 250 

My Vanquisher, spoil'd of his vaunted spoil ; 

Death his death's wound shall then receive, and stoop 

Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarm'd. 

I through the ample air in triumph high 

Shall lead Hell captive maugre Hell, and shew 255 

The Pow'rs of darkness bound. Thou at the sight 

Pleased, out of Heaven shalt look down and smile. 

While by thee raised I ruin all my foes, 

Death last, and with his carcase glut the gi'ave : 

Then with the multitude of my redeem'd 280 

Shall enter Heav'n long absent, and return. 

Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloud 

Of anger shall remain, but peace assured 

And reconcilement ; wrath shall be no more 

Thenceforth, but in thy presence joy entire. 2(35 

His words here ended, but his meek aspect 
Silent yet spake, and breath'd immortal love 
To mortal men, above which only shone 
Filial obedience : as a sacrifice 

Glad to be ofter'd, he attends the will 270 

Of his great Father. Admiration seized 
All Heav'n, what this might mean, and whither tend, 
Wond'ring; but soon th' Almighty thus reply*d : 

thou in Heav'n and Earth the only peace 
Found out for mankind under wrath ! O thoti 275 
My sole complacence ! well thou know'st how dear 
To me are all my woiks, nor Man the least. 
Though last created ; that for him I spare 
Thee from my bosom and right hand, to save. 
By losing thee a while, the whole race lost. 280 

244, See John v. 26. 
249. See Ps, xvi. lo. and Acts ii. 20, 21. 
252. The punning' character of this line has been justly repro- 
bated as unworthy ot ihe subject. 
354. Ps. Ixviii. 18. and Col. ii. 15. 259. 1 (.or. xv. 26. 

2h6. If the reader compare this picture of the Son of God with 
tha*i in the sixth book, he will be awed and deliyriited with tlif 
grandeur of Milton's conception of the Messiuli's character 



76 PARA DISK LOST. 

Thou therefore whom thou only canst redeem, 

Their nature also to thy nature join ; 

And be thyself Man among men on earth. 

Made flesh, when time s>»aU be, of virg-in seed, 

By wondrous birth : be mou in Adam's room 2S5 

The Head of all mankind, though Adam's son. 

As in him perish all men, so in thee, 

As from a second root, shall be restored 

As many' as are restored ; without thee none. 

His crime makes guilty all his sons ; thy merit 290 

Imputed shall absolve them who renounce 

Their own both righteous and unrighteous deeds, 

And live in thee transplanted, and from thee 

Receive new life. So Man, as is most just. 

Shall satisfy for man, be judged and die, 295 

And dying rise, and rising with him raise 

His brethi'en ransom'd with his own dear life. 

So heav'nly love shall outdo hellish hate, 

Giving to death, and dying to redeem, 

So dearly to redeem what hellish hate 300 

So easily destroy'd, and still destroys 

In those who, when they may, accept not gTace. 

Nor shalt thou, by descendiiig to assume 

Man's nature, lessen or degrade thine own. 

Because thou hast, though throned in highest bliss 305 

Equal to God, and equally enjoying 

God-like fruition, quitted all to save 

A world from utter loss, and hast been found 

By merit more than birthinght, Son of God, 

Found worthiest to be so by being good, 310 

Far more than great or high ; because in thee 

Love hath abounded more than glory 'bounds. 

Therefore thy humiliation shall exalt 

With thee thy manhood also to this throne : 

Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt reign 315 

Both God and Man, Son both of God and Man, 

Anointed Universal King: all pow'r 

I give thee ; reign for ever, and assume 

Thy merits ; under thee as Head Supreme 

287. See 1 f'or. xv. 22. 
301. Tlie lan^uajje is liere accoranioddted to the eternity ot (ht 
speaker, to whom past, present, and futi re, are or.e. 
117. Matt. xxviiL ^e. 



BOOK III. 77 

Thrones, Princedoms, Pow'rs, Dominions I reduce : 
All knees to thee shall bow, of them that bide 32] 
In Heav'n, or Earth, or under Earth in Hell. 
When thou attended g-loriously from Heav'n 
Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send 
The summoning Arch -Angels to proclaim 325 

Thy dread tribunal, forthwith from all winds 
The living, and forthwith the cited dead 
Of all past ages, to the gen'ral doom 
Shall hasten ; such a peal shall rouse their sleep. 
Then all thy saints assembled, thou shalt judge 330 
Bad men and Angels ; they arraign'd shall sink 
Beneath thy sentence : Hell, her numbers full. 
Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Mean while 
The world shall burn, and from her ashes spring- 
New Heav'n and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell, 
And after all their tribulations long 336 

See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds. 
With joy and love triumphing, and fair truth. 
Then thou thy regal sceptre shalt lay by, 
For regal sceptre then no more shall need, 340 

God shall be All in All. But all ye Gods, 
Adore him, who to compass all this dies : 
Adore the Son, and honour him as me. 

No sooner had th' Almighty ceased, but all 
The multitude of Angels, with a shout 345 

/Loud as from numbers without number, sweet 
I As from blest voices, utt'ring joy, Heav'n rung 
\With jubilee, and loud Hosannas fiU'd 
Th' eternal regions : lowly reverent 
Tow'rds either throne they bow, and to the ground 
With solemn adoration down they cast .351 

Their crowns, inwove with amarant and gold ; 
Immortal amarant ; a flow'r which once 
; In Paradise, fast by the tree of life. 

Began to bloom ; but soon, for man's offence, 355 

321. Philip, ii. 10. 334. 2 Pet. iii. 12, 13. 

335. 1 cannot do better than here recoiiimend to the reader, the 
perusal of Dr. Chalmers' powerfully interesting sermon on tlie 
subject of a new Heaven and a new "Earth. 

341. 1 Cor. XV. 28. and Ps. xcvii. 7. and Heb. i. 6. 

343. John v. 23. 

351. Rev. iv. 10. 

353. Amaraiil, a flower whose beauty never fades. Allusion U 
made here to \ Pet. i. 4. and 1 Pet, v, 4, 



73 PARADISE LOST. 

To Heav'n removed, where first it grew, there gTOWS, 
And iiow'rs aloft, shading- the fount of life. 
And where the riv'r of bliss tliroiigh midst of Heav'n 
Rolls o'er Elysian fiow'rs her amber stream; 
With these, that never fade, the Spirits elect 360 
Bind their resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams, 
Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright 
Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone, 
Impurpled with celestia] roses smiled. 
Then crown'd again, their golden harps they took, 
Harps ever tuned, that glitt'ring by their side 366 
Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet 
Of charming- symphony they introduce \ 

Their sacred song, and waken raptures high ; | 
No voice exempt, no voice but well could join / 370 
Melodious part, — such concord is in Heav'n. / 
~"^"*'Thee, Father, first they sung. Omnipotent, 
Immutable, Immortal, Iniinite, 
Eternal King ; thee, Author of all being, 
Fountain of Light, thyself invisible 375 

Amidst the glorious brightness wliere thou sitt'st 
Throned inaccessible, but v.iien thou shad'st 
The full blaze of thy beams, and through a cloud 
Drawn round about thee like a radiant shrine, 
Dark with excessive bright thy skirts appear, 380 
Yet dazzle Heav'n, that brightest Seraphim 
Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes. 
Thee, next they sang-, of all creation first. 
Begotten Son, Divine Similitude, 

In whose conspicuous count'nance, Vv'ithout cloud 385 
Made visible, th' Almighty Father shines, 
Whom else no creature can behold : on thee 
Impress'd th' efiulgence of his glory 'bides. 
Transfused on thee his ample Spirit rests. 
He Heav'n of Heav'ns and all the Pow'rs therein 390 
By thee created, and by thee threw down 
Th' aspiring Dominations: thou that day 
"^hy Father's dreadful thunder didst not spare, 

858. The happiness of Heaven is repeatedly compared in Scrip 
-Are to a fountain or river. 

380. The same idea is in Tasso, Can. 9. st. 57. and in Spenser^B 
iynin to Heavenly Beauty. 

382. See Isaiah vi. 2. 
383. Col. i. 15. }?cv. iii. 14. 3?7. John i. 18. xiv, H, 



BOOK Hi. 7g 

Nor stop thy flaming' chariot- wheels, that shook 

Heav'n's everlasting frame, while o'er the necks 'S95 

Thou drov'st of warring Angels disarray 'd. 

Back from pursuit thy Pow'rs with loud acclaim 

Thee only' extoU'd, Son of thy Father's might. 

To execute fierce vengeance on his foes. 

Not so on Man : Him thro' their malice fall'n, 400 

Father of mercy' and grace, thou didst not doom 

So strictly, but much more to pity' incline ; 

No sooner did thy dear and only Son 

Perceive thee purposed not to doom frail Man 

So strictly, hut much more to pity' inclined, 405 

He to appease thy wrath, and end the strife 

Of mercy' and justice in thy face discern'd, 

Regardless of the bliss wherein he sat 

Second to thee, olFer'd himself to die 

For man's offence. O unexampled love ! 410 

Love no where to be found less than Divine ! 

Hail Son of God, Saviour of Men, thy name 

Shall be the copious matter of my song 

Henceforth, and never shall my harp thy praise 

Forget, nor from thy Father's praise disjoin. 4ir» 

Thus they in Heav'n, above the starry sphere, 
Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent. 
Mean while upon the firm opacous globe 
Of this round v/orld, whose first convex divides 
the luminous inferior orbs, inclosed 420 

Prom Chaos and th' inroad of Darkness old, 
Satan alighted walks : a globe far off 
It seem'd, now seems a boundless continent 
Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of Night 
Starless exposed, and ever-threat'ning storms 425 
Of Chaos blust'ring round, inclement sky ; 
Save on that side which from the wall of Heav'n, 
Though distant far, some small reflection gains 
Of glimm'ring air less vex'd with tempest loud : 
Here walk'd the Fiend at large in spacious field. 43C 
As when a vulture on Imaus bred. 
Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds, 

412. Milton has been hitherto professedly repeating the sulv 
stance of the angels' song. He here speaks or his own deter- 
mination. 

431. ImaitSf a celebrated mountain in Asia. 
G 



80 PARADISE LOST. 

Dislodging from a region scarce of prey 

To gorge the flesh of lambs or yeanling kids 434 

On hills where flocks are fed, flies toward the springs 

Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams ; 

But in his way lights on the barren jiains 

Of Sericana, where Chineses drive 

With sails and wind their cany waggons light : 

So on this windy sea of land, the Fiend 440 

Walk'd up and down alone, bent on his prey : 

Alone ; for other creature in this place, 

Living or lifeless, to be found was none ; 

None yet, but store hereafter from the earth 

Up hither like aereal vapours flew 445 

Of all things transit'ry and vain, when sin 

With vanity had fill'd the works of men ; 

Both all things vain, and all who in vain things 

Built their fond hopes of glory', or lasting fame, 

Or happiness, in this or th' other life ; 450 

All who have their reward on earth, the fruits 

Of painful superstition and blind zeal, 

Nought seeking but the praise of men, here And 

Fit retribution, empty as their deeds : 

All th' unaccomplish'd works of Nature's hand, 455 

Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mix'd. 

Dissolved on earth, fleet hither, and in vain. 

Till fmal dissolution, wander here ; 

Not in the neighb'ring moon, as some have dream 'd; 

Those argent fields more likely habitants, 460 

Translated Saints or middle Spirits, hold 

Betwixt th' angelical and human kind. 

Hither of ill-join'd sons and daughters born 

First from the ancient world those giants came, 464 

With many a vain exploit, though then renown'd : 

The builders next of Babel on the plain 

Of Sennaar, and still with vain design 

New Babels, had they wherewithal, would build : 

Others came single ; he who to be deem'd 

A God, leap'd fondly into ^tna flames, 470 

438. Sericana ; that part of India called Calhay : it is n-mark- 
able for the smoothness of its plains. The description of Limbo, 
which follcwb, has been greatly reprobated by Mr. Addison, and 
others. But here, as in other places, Milton is best defended by 
calling to mind the character and design of his poem. 

463. See Gen. vi. 4. 467. Sennaar, or Shinar. 



BOOK Hi. 81 

Empedocles ; and lie who to enjoy 

Plato's Elysium, leap'd into the sea, 

Cleombrotus ; and many more too long, 

Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars 

White, black and grey, with all their trumpery. 475 

Here Pilg-rims roam, that stray'd so far to seek 

In Golgotha himi dead, who lives in Heav'n ; 

A.nd they who, to be sure of Paradise, 

Dying put on the weeds of Dominic, 

Or in Franciscan think to pass disguised: 480 

They pass the planets sev'n, and pass the fix'd, 

And that crystalline sphere whose balance weighs 

The trepidation talk'd, and that first moved ; 

And now Saint Peter at Heav'n's wicket seems 

To wait them with his keys, and now at foot 485 

Of Heav'n's ascent they lift their feet, when lo, 

A violent cross wind from either coast 

Blows them transverse ten thousand leagues awry 

Into the devious air ; then might ye see 

Cowls, hoods, and habits, with their wearers, tost 

And flutter'd into rags ; then reliques, beads, 491 

Indulgences, dispenses^, pardons, bulls, 

The sport of winds : all these upwhirl'd aloft 

Fly o'er the backside of the world far oft' 

Into a Limbo large and broad, since call'd 495 

The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown 

Long after, now unpeopled, and untrod. 

All this dark globe the Fiend found as he pass'd, 

And long he wander'd, till at last a gleam 

Of dawning light tum'd thitherward in haste 500 

His traveird steps : far distant he descries 

Ascending by degrees magnificent 

Up to the wall of Heav'n a structure high ; 

At top whereof, but far more rich, appear'd 

The Avork as of a kingly palace gate, 

471. Empedoclef was a Pythag'orean philosopher, who threw 
himself into the crater of Mo mt' Etna. 

473. Cleombrotus was a young man, who, having been deeply 
interebted with Plato's reflections on the immortality of the soul, 
leaped into the sea that he might at once enjoy the "felicity men- 
tioned. 

482. Milton here foUows the ancient or Ptolemaic system of 
a-'tronomy. Tasso mentions the same spheres in describing Mi- 
chael's descent fYom heaven, only in an inverse order. 

489. The second person is here put indefinitely; then might w 
seen 

E 2 



82 PARADISE LOST. 

With frontispiece of diamond and gold 

Embellish'd : thick with sparkling- orient gems 

The portal shone, inimitable on earth 

By model, or by shading pencil drawn. 

The stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw 510 

Angels ascending and descending, bands 

Of guardians bright, when he from Esau fled 

To Padan-Aram in the field of Lax, 

Dreaming by night under the open sky. 

And waking cry'd, This is the gate of Heav'n. 515 

Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood 

There always, but drawn up to Heav'n sometimes 

Viewless : and underneath a bright sea fiow'd 

Of jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon 

Who after came from earth, sailing arrived, 520 

Wafted by Angels, or flew o'er the lake 

Rapt in a chariot drawn by fiery steeds. 

The stairs were then let down, whether to dare 

The Fiend by easy 'scent, or aggravate 

His sad exclusion from the doors of bliss : 525 

Direct against which open'd from beneath. 

Just o'er the blissful seat of Paradise, 

A passage down to th' Earth, a passage wide, 

Wider by far than that of after-times 

Over mount Sion, and, though that were large, 530 

Over the Promised Land, to God so dear. 

By which, to visit oft those happy tribes. 

On high behests his Angels to and fro 

Pass'd frequent, and his eye with choice regard 

From Paneas the fount of Jordan's flood 535 

To Beersaba, where the Holy Land 

Borders on Egypt and th' Arabian shore : 

So wide the op'ning seem'd, where bounds were set 

To darkness, such as bound the ocean wave. 

Satan from hence, now on the lower stair 540 

That scaled by steps of gold to Heaven gate, 

Looks down with wonder at the sudden view 

Of all this world at once. As when a scout 

Through dark and desert ways with peril gone 

All night, at last by break of cheerful dawn 541 

510. See Gen. xxviii. 12, 13. 

534 Passed freque7it, is to be understood after regard, 

*»40. The description and comparison here are very noble. 



BOOK III. 83 

Obtains the brow of some high -climbing hill, 
Which to his eye discovers unaware 
The goodly prospect of some foreign laud 
First seen, or some renown 'd metropolis 
With glist'ring spires and pinnacles adorn'd, 550 
Which new the rising Sun gilds with his beams : 
Such wonder seized, though after Heaven seen. 
The Spirit malign, but much more envy seized, 
At sight of all this world beheld so fair. 554 

Round he surveys (and well might, where he stood 
So high above the circling canopy 
Of Night's extended shade) from eastern point 
|0f Libya to the fleecy star that bears 
I Andromeda far off Atlantic seas 

?^eyond th' horizon ; then from pole to pole 560 

He views in breadth, and without longer pause 
Down right into the world's first region thj'ows 
His flight precipitant, and win-ds with ease 
|Through the pure marble air his oblique way 
\Amongst innumerable stars, that shone 565 

Stars distant, but nigh hand seem'd other worlds ; 
|0r other worlds they seem'd, or happy isles, \ 
jvLike those Hesperian gardens famed of old, h 
^Fortunate fields, and groves, and flow'ry vales,/ 
Thrice happy isles; but who dwelt happy there 570 
He stay'd not to inquire : above them all 
The golden Sun, in splendovir likest lleav'n, 
Allured his eye : thither his course he bends 
Thrmigh the calm firmament (but up or down, 
By centre, or eccentric, hard to tell, 575 

Or longitude) where the great luminary 
Aloof the vulgar constellations thick. 
That from his lordly eye keep distance due. 
Dispenses light from far ; they as they move 
Their starry dance in numbers that compute 580 

Days, months, and years, tow'rds his all-cheering lamp i 
Turn swift their various motions, or are turn'd 
By his magnetic beam, that gently warms 
The universe, and to each inward part 

558 Constellations directly opposite to earh other. 'V\ie fleecy 
Btur is Aries, which is said to bear Andromeda, because jus! 
under it. 

568. Hesperian gardens ; celebrated among- the ancients, and 
gupposed to have been the Cape Verd Islands. 



84 PARADISE LOST. 

Wifh gentle penetration, though unseen, 585 

Shoots invisible virtue ev'n to the deep ; 

So wondrously was set his station bright. 

There lands the Fiend, a spot like which perhaps 

Astronomer in the Sun's lucent orb 

Through his glazed optic tube yet never saw. 590 

The place he found beyond expression bright, 

Compar'd with aught on earth, metal or stone ; 

Not all parts like, but all alike inform'd 

With radiant light, as glowing iron with fire ; 

If metal, part seem'd gold, part silver clear ; 595 

If stone, carbuncle most, or chrysolite, 

Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shone 

In Aaron's breast-plate, and a stone besides 

Imagined rather oft than elsewhere seen, 

That stone, or like to that which here below 600 

Philosophers in vain so long have sought ; 

In vain, though by their pow'rful art they bind \ 

|Volatile Hermes, and call up unbound i 

|In various shapes old Proteus from the sea, 

Drain'd through a limbec to his native form. 605 

What wonder then if fields and regions here 

Breathe forth Elixir pure, and rivers run 

Potable gold, when with one virtuous touch 

Th' areh-chemic Sun, so far from us remote, 

Produces with terrestrial humour mix'd 610 

Here in the dark so many precious things 

Of colour glorious and effect so rare ? 

Here matter new to gaze the Devil met 

Undazzled ; far and wide his eye commands ; 

For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade, 615 

But all sunshine, as when his beams at noon 

Culminate from th' equator, as they now 

Shot upward still direct, whence no way round 

Shadow from body opaque can fall ; and th' air, 

No where so clear, sharpen'd his visual ray 620 

To objects distant far, whereby he soon 

Saw within ken a glorious Angel stand. 



603. Hermes, or Mercury; Protens was a sea-god, celebrated 
as is well known for the variety of shapes he had the power of 
taking; the ancients meant to express, under the name of this 
fabulous beins:, the first principle of thing-s. The stoi.e alluded 
to is that by which philosophers hoped to turn all tl!iii-.^s iiito gold. 



BOOK ill. 85 

The same whom John saw also iu the Sun. 
His back was tarn'd, but not his brightness hid : 
Of beaming sunny rays a golden tiar C25 

Circled his head, nor less his locks behind 
Illustrious on his shoulders fledge with wings 
Lay waving" round. On some great charg-e employ'd 
He seem'd, or fix'd in cogitation deep. 
Glad was the Spirit impure, as now in hope 630 

To find who might direct his wand'ring flight 
To Paradise, the happy seat of Man, 
His journey's end, and our beg'inning woe. 
But first he casts to change his proper shape, 
Which else might work him dang-er or delay : 635 
And now a stripling Cherub he appears. 
Not of the prime, yet such as in his face 
Youth smiled celestial, and to ev'ry limb 
Suitable grace diffused, so well he feign'd : 
Under a coronet his flowing- hair 640 

In curls on either cheek play'd ; wings he wore 
Of many a colour'd plume, sprinkled with gold ; 
His habit fit for speed succinct, and held 
Before his decent steps a silver wand. 
He drew not nigh unheard: the Angel bright, 645 
Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turn'd, 
Admonish'd by his ear, and straight was known 
Th' Arch-Angel Uriel, one of the seven 
Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne, 
Stand ready at command, and are his eyes 650 

Tliat run through all the Heav'ns, or down to th' Earth 
Bear his swift errands over moist and dry. 
O'er sea and land : him Satan thus accosts : 

Uriel, for thou of those sev'n Spirits that stand 
In sight of God's high throne, gloriously bright, 655 
The first art wont his great authentic v/ill 
Interpreter through highest Heav'n to bring, 
Where all his sons thy embassy attend; 
And here art likeliest, by Supreme decree. 
Like honour to obtain, and as his eye CSC 

To visit oft this new creation round ; 

623. See Rev, xix. 17. 

627. Instead oi , fledged for softness. 

643. Succi7ict , ready or prepared. 

844. Decent, used in the I^atin sense, graceful and beaatifuU 

650. Zech. iv. 10. Tobit xii. 15. Rev. i. 4. v. 6. viii. 2. 



86 PARVDISE LOST. 

Unspeakable desire to see, and know 

A.11 these his wondrous works, but chiefly Man, 

His chief delight and favour ; him for whom 

All these his works so wondrous he ordain'd, 065 

Hath brought me from the choirs of Cherubim 

Alone thus wand'ring. Brightest Seraph, tell 

In which of all these shining orbs hath Man 

His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none. 

But all these shining orbs his choice to dwell ; 670 

That I may find him, and with secret gaze 

Or open admiration him behold. 

On whom the great Creator hath bestow'd 

Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces pour'd ; 

That both in him and all things, as is meet, 075 

The Universal Maker we may praiso. 

Who justly hath driv'n out his rebel foes 

To deepest Hell ; and to repair that loss 

Created this new happy race of Men 

To serve him better: wise are all his ways. 680 

^ So spake the false Dissembler un^rceived ; 

/ For neither Man nor Angel can disce?K 

I Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks ^ 

I Invisible, except to God alone^^^.^'-'"'''^ 

^By his permissive will, thro' Keav'n and Earth: &%^ 
And oft though W^isdom wake. Suspicion sleeps 
At Wisdom's gate, and to Simplicity 
Resigns her charge, while Goodness thinks tio ill 
Where no ill seems : which now for once beguiled 
Uriel, though regent of the Sun, and held 690 

The sharpest sighted Spirl'*; of all in Heav'n ; 
Who to the fraudulent imposi:or foul 
In his uprightness answer thus return'd : 

Fair Angel, thy desire, which tends to know 
The works of God, thereby to glorify 095 

The great Work-Master, leads to no <^.xcess 
That reaches blame, but rather merits praise 
The more it seems excess, that led thee hither 
From thy empyreal mansion thus alone. 
To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps 70* 
Contented with report hear only' in Heav'n : 
For wonderful indeed are all his works, 
Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all 
Had in remembrance always with delight : 



BOOK IIJ. 8t 

But what created mind can comprehend 705 

Their numbe?', or the wisdom infinite 

That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep 1 

I saw when at his v/ord the formless mass, 

This world's material mould, came to a heap: 

Confusion heard his voice, and wild Uproar 710 

Stood ruled, stood vast Infinitude confined ; 

Till at his second bidding- Darkness fled, 

Light shone, and Order from Disorder sprang: 

Swift to their sev'ral quarters hasted then 

The cumbrous elements, Earth, Flood, Air, Fire ; 715 

And this ethereal quintessence of Heav'n 

Flew^ upward, spirited with various forms, 

That roll'd orbicular, and turn'd to stars 

Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move : 

Each had his place appointed, each his course ; 720 

The rest in circuit walls this universe. 

Look downward on that globe, whose hither side 

With light from hence, though but reflected, shines ; 

That place is Earth, the seat of Man ; that light 

His day, which else, as th' other hemisphere, 725 

Night would invade ; but there the neig'hb'ring moon 

(So call that opposite fair star) her aid 

Timely' interposes, and her monthly round 

Still ending-, still renewing, through mid Hear'n, 

With borrow'd light her countenance triform 730 

Hence fills and empties to enlighten th' Earth, 

And in her pale dominion checks the night. 

That spot to which I point is Paradise, 

Adam's abode, those lofty shades his bow'r. 

Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires. 735 

Thus said, he turn'd; and Satan bowing* low. 
As to superior Spirits is wont in Heav'n, 
Where honour due and rev'rence none neglects. 
Took leave, and tow'rd the coast of earth beneath, 
Down from th' ecliptic, sped with hoped success, 740 
Throws his steep flight in many an aery wheel, 
Nor stay'd, till on Niphates' top he lights. 

730. Triform, so called from her increase and decrease towards 
east and west, and her fulness. 

742. Niphates, a mountain on the borders of Armenia, roM 
which Paradise is supposed to have been situated. 



BOOK IV 

THE ARGUMENT. 

Satan now in prospect of Eden, and nioh the place whe/e .,e 
must now attempt the bold enterprise which lie undertook alone 
ag-ainst God and Man, falls into many doubts witli himself, and 
many passions, fear, envy, and despair; but at length confirms 
himself in evil, journeys on to I'aradise, whose outward prospect 
and situation is described, overleaps tlie bounds, sits in the sliape 
ot a cormorant on the Tree of Life, as highest in the garden, to 
look about him. The garden described : Satan's first sight of 
Adam and Eve; his wonder at tlieir excellent form and happy 
slate, but with resolution to work tlieir fall ; overhears tlieir dis- 
course, thence gathers that the Tree of Knowledge was forbidden 
them to eat of, under penalty of Death ; and thereon intends to 
found his temptation, by seducino: them to transgress; then leaves 
them a while, to know "further of their state by some other means. 
Meanwhile Uriel, descendins: on a sun-beam, warns Gabriel, who 
had in charge the gate of Varadise, that some evii Spirit had 
escaped the deep, and passed at noon by his sphere in the shape 
of a good Angel down to Paradise, discovered after by his furious 
gestures in the Mount. Gabriel promises to find hiin ere morn- 
ing. Night coming on, Adam and Eve discourse of going to their 
rest: their bower described; their evening worship. Gabriel 
drawing forth his bands of night-watcli to walk the round of Pa- 
radise, "appoints two ftrong Angels to Adam's bower, lest the evii 
Spirit should be there doing some harm to Adam or Eve sleeping ; 
there they find him at the ear of Eve, tempting her in a dream, 
and bring him, though unwilling, to Gabriel ; by whom questioned, 
he scornfully answers, prepares resistance, but hindered by a sign 
from Heaven, flies out of Paradise. 

O FOR that warning- voice, which he who saw 
Th' Apocalypse heard cry in Heav'n aloud. 
Then when the Dragon, put to second rout. 
Came furious down to be revenged on men, 

Woe to th' inhabitants on earth !' that now, 5 

While time was, our first parents had been wam'd 
The coming- of their secret foe, and 'scaped. 
Haply so 'scaped his mortal snare : for now 
Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down, 
The tempter ere th' accuser of mankind, 10 

To wreck on innocent frail man his loss 
Of that first battle, and his flight to Hell : 
Yet not rejoicing in his speed, though bold 

1. There is great propriety in the opening of the present 
book. The grand subject of the relation which St. John gave of 
the Apocalypse or Revelation he received, is the overthrow of 
Satan, whose first attempts upon Man's purity and happiness form 
the ground- work of this part of the poem. 



BOOK IV. 89 

Fai* off and fearless, noi- with cause to boast, 

Begins his dire attempt, which nigh the birth 15 

Now rolling, boils in his tumultuous breast^ 

And, like a dev'lish engine, back recoils 

Upon himself: horror and doubt distract 

His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir 

■Jl'he Plell within him ; for within him Hell 20 

He brings, and round about him ; nor from Hell 

One step no more than from himself can fly 

By change of place : now Conscience wakes Despair 

That slumber d, wakes the bitter memory 

Of what he was, what is, and what must be 25 

Worse ; of worse deeds worse suff'rings must ensue. 

Sometimes tow'rds Eden, which now in his view 

Lay pleasant, his grieved look he iixes sad ; 

Sometimes tow'rds Heav'n and the full-blazing Sun, 

Which now sat high in his meridian tow'r: 30 

Then much revolving, thus in sighs began : 

O thou that with sui-passing glory crown'd, 
Look'st from thy sole dominion like the God 
Of this new world ; at whose sight all the stars 
Hide their diminish'd heads ; to thee I call, 35 

But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, 

Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams, 
That bring to my remembrance from what state 

1 fell, how glorious once above thy sphere ; 

Till pride and worse ambition threw me down 40 
Warring in Heav'n against Heav'n's matchless King : 
Ah wherefore ! he deserved no such return 
From me, whom he created Avhat I was 
In that bright eminence, and with his good 
Upbraided none ; nor was his service hard. 45 

What could be less than to afford him praise. 
The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks, 
How due ! yet all his good proved ill in me. 
And vio'ought but malice ; lifted tip so high, 
I sdeign'd subjection, and thought one step higher 
Would set me high'st, and in a moment quit 51 

The debt immense of endless gi-atitude, 

24. Memory is here used in the sense of reflection or conside- 
ration. 

32. Milton first thought of writing a tragedy on the Loss of Pa- 
radise, and the first ten lines of this speech formed its opening. 
50. Sdeign'd, for disdain'' d, from the Italian, sdegiiare. 



90 PARADISE LOST. 

So burdensome still paying-, still to owe, 
Forgetful what frcra Him I still received, 
And understood not that a grateful mind 35 

By owing' owes not, but still pays, at once 
Indebted and discharged : what burden then ? 
O had his pow'rful destiny ordain'd 
Me some inferior Ang-el, I had stood 
Then happy ; no unbounded hope had raised 60 

Ambition. Yet, why not ? some other Pow'r, 
As great might have aspired, and me, though mean, 
Drawn to his part ; but other Pow'rs as great 
Fell not, but stand un.haken, from within 
Or from without, to all temptations ai-m'd. 65 

Hadst thou the same free will and pow'r to stand ? 
Thou hadst. Whom hast thou then or what t' accuse, 
But Heav'n's free love dealt equally to all? 
Be then his love accursed, since love or hate, 
To me alike, it deals eternal woe. 70 

Na}^, cursed be thou ; since against his thy will 
Chose freely what it now so justly rues. 
/%le miserable ! which way shall I fly^"" 
Infinite wrath', and infinite despair? 
Which way I fly is Hell ; myself am Hell ; 75 

And in the lowest deep a lower deep 
Still threat'ning to devour me opens wide. 
To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heav'n 
O then at last relent. Is there no place 
Left for repentance, none for pardon left? 80 

Kone left but by submission ; and that word 
Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame 
Among- the Spirits beneath, whom I seduced 
With other promises and other vaunts 
Than to submit, boasting I could subdue 85 

Th' Omnipotent. Ay me, they little know 
How dearly I abide that boast so vain. 
Under what torments inwardly I groan. 
While they adore me on the throne of Hell ! 
With diadem and sceptre high advanced, 01 

The lov/er still I fall, only supreme 
In misery Ksuch joy ambition finds. 
But say I could repent, and could obtain 

55. Understood not, to be connected with the preceding verl'N. 



BOOK IV, 91 

By act of grace my former state, Low soon 94 

Would higlith recall high thoughts, how soon unsay 

What feigu'd submission swore ! ease would recant 

Vows made in pain, as violent and void ; 

For never can trxie reconcilement g-row 

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep : 

Which would but lead me to a worse relapse, lUO 

And heavier fall : so should I purchase dear 

Short intermission bought with double smart. 

This knows my Punisher : therefore, as far 

From granting he, as I from begging peace. 

All hope excluded thus, behold, instead 105 

Of us outcast, exiled, his new delight, 

Mankind created, and for him this world. 

So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear, 

Farewell remorse : all good to me is lost : 

Evil be thou my good ; by thee at least 110 

Divided empire with Heav'n's King I hold, 

By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign ; 

As Man ere long, and this new world shall know. 

Thus while he spake, each passion dimm'd his face ; 
Thrice changed Avith pale, ire, envy, and despair; 115 
Which marr'd his borrow 'd visage, and betray 'd 
Him counterfeit, if any eye beheld. 
For heav'nly minds from such distempers foul 
Are ever clear. Whereof he soon aware. 
Each perturbation smooth'd with outward calm, 120 
Artificer of fraud ; and was the first 
That practised falsehood u.nder saintly show, 
Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge : 
Yet not enough had practised to deceive 
Uriel once warn'd ; whose eye pursued him down 125 
The way he went, and on th' Assyrian mount 
Saw him disfigured more than could befall 
Spirit of happy sort ; his gestures fierce 
He mark'd and mad demeanour, then alone. 
As he supposed, all unobserved, unseen. 130 

So on he fares, and to the border comes 
Of Eden, where delicious Paradise, 
Now nearer, crowns with her inclosure green. 
As with a rural mound, the champaign head 
Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides 135 

With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild, 



92 



PARADISE LOST 



Access deny'd ; and ovei head up grew. 

Insuperable height of loftiest shade, 

Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching* palm ; 

A sylvan scene ; and as the ranks ascend 14C 

Shade above shade, a woody theatre 

Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops 

The verdurous wall of Paradise up sprung ; 

Which to our gen'ral sire gave prospect large 

Into his nether empire neighb'ring round : 145 

And higher than that wall a circling row 

Of goodliest trees loaden with fairest fruit, 

Blossoms and fruits at once of golden hue, 

Appear 'd with gay enamel'd colours mix'd : 

On which the Sun more glad impress 'd his beams 

Than in fair ev'ning cloud, or humid bow, 151 

When God hath show'r'd the earth : so lovely seem'd 

That landskip : and of pure now purer air 

Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires 

Vernal delight and joy, able to drive 155 

All sadness but despair: now gentle gales. 

Fanning their odorif'rous wings, dispense 

Native perfumes, and v^^hisper whence they stole 

Those balmy spoils. As when to them who sail 

Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past 160 

Mozambique, off at sea north-east winds blow 

Sabean odours from the spicy shore 

Of Araby the Blest ; with such delay [league 

Well pleased they slack their course, and many a 

Cheer'd with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles : 

So entertain'd those odorous sweets the Fiend 166 

Who came their bane, though with them better pleased 

Than Asmodeus with the fishy fume 

That drove him, though enamour'd, from the spouse 

151. The description which Milton has g-iven of Paradise is 
similar to those of Homer, Spenser, and Tasso, in their accounts 
of the irardens in which the scene of their poems sometimes lies. 
To these may be added Ariosto's and Marino's, it beinsr g-enerdily 
allowed, thi;t Ihoug-h Milton's is superior to any other, that the 
Italian come nearest in beauty and perfection. 

158. An imitation is here observed of Shakspearein the Twelfth 
Ni^ht, or of Ariosto, Orlan. Fin. 6. 34. st. 51. 

162. Mozamhiqtie is an island on the eastern coast of Africa. 

As the north-east wind blows contrary to those who have doubled 

the Cape, they are nence oblig'ed to slack thfir course. — Sabean 

from Saba, a city and province of Arabia Feliy 

168. See Tobit viii. 



150 OK IV. 93 

Of Tobit's son, and with a vengeance sent 170 

From Media post to Egypt, there fast bound. 
Now to th' ascent of that steep savage hill 
Satan had journey'd on, pensive and slow; 
But further v/ay found none, so thick intwined, 
As one continued brake, the undergrowth 175 

Of shrubs and tang'ling bushes had perplex'd 
All path of man or beast that pass'd that way : 
One g'ate there only was, and that look'd east 
On th' other side ; which when th' arch-felon saw, 
Due entrance he disdain'd, and in contempt, 180 
At one slight bound high overleap'd all bound 
Of hill or highest wall, and sheer within 
Lights on his feet. As when a prowling' wolf, 
Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey, 
Watching- where shepherds pen their flocks at eve 
In hurdled cots amid the lield secure, 180 

Leaps o'er the fence with ease into the fold : 
Or as a thief bent to unhoard the cash 
Of some rich burgher, whose substantial doors, 
Cross-barr'd and bolted fast, fear no assault, 190 

In at the window climbs, or o'er the tiles : 
So clomb this first grand thief into God's fold , 
So since into his church lewd hirelings climb. 
Thence up he flew, and on the tree of life. 
The middle tree and highest there that grew, 195 
Sat like a cormorant ; yet not true life 
Thereby regain'd, but sat devising death 
To them who lived ; nor on the virtue thought 
Of that life-giving plant, but only used 
For prospect, what well used had been the pledge 
Of immortality. So little knows 201 

Any, but God alone, to value right 
The good before him, but perverts best things 
To worst abuse, or to their meanest use. 
Beneath him, with new wonder, now^ he views 20o 
To all delight of human sense exposed 
in narrow room Nature's whole wealth, yea more, 
A Heav'n on Earth : for blissful Paradise 

183. A wolf is a frequent subject of comparison in the |)ot;iSj 
out for the whole of this, see John x. 1. 

193, Lewd, impious or wicked. 

195. Gen. ii. 9. In the midst, signifies the excellency as we i 
ss the situation of the tree. 



9t PARADISE LOST. 

Of God the garden was. by him in th' east 

Of Eden planted; Eden stretch'd her line 210 

From Auran eastward to the royal tow'rs 

Of great Seleucia, built by Grecian kings, 

Or where tlie sons of Eden long before 

Dwelt in Telassar. In this pleasant soil 

His far more pleasant gai'den God ordain'd ; 215 

Out of the fertile ground he caused to grow 

All trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste ; 

And all amid them stood the tree of life. 

High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit 

Of vegetable gold ; and next to life, 220 

Our death, the tree of knowledge, grew fast by, 

Knowledge of good bought dear by knowing ill. 

Southward through Eden went a river large. 

Nor changed his course, but thro' the shaggy hill 

Pass'd underneath ingulf'd ; for God had thrown 225 

That mountain as his garden mould high raised 

iJpon the rapid current, which thro' veins 

Of porous earth with kindly thirst np drawn, 

Rose a fresh fountain, and v/ith many a rill 

Water'd the garden : thence united fell 230 

Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood, 

Whic-h from his darksome passage noAV appears. 

And now divided into four main streams, 

Runs diverse, wand'ring many a famous realm 

And country, whereof here needs no account; 235 

But rather to tell how, if Art could tell. 

How from that sapphire fount the crisped brooks, 

Rolling on orient pearl and sands of gold. 

With mazy error under pendent shades 

Ran nectar, visiiing each plant, and fed 240 

Flow'rs, worthy' of Paradise, which not nice Art 

In beds and curious knots, but Nature boon 

Pour'd forth profuse on hill, and dale, and plain, 

Both w'here the morning Sun first warmly smote 

The open field, and where the unpierced shade 245 



209. Gen. ii. 8. Seleucia, a city on the river Tigris, built by one 
of Alexander's successors. — Telassar was a country on the borders 
of Assyria.— See Isa. xxxvii. 12. 

233. Gen. ii. 10. 

238. So Pactolus, Uernms, &c. are said to have rolled over gpoM 
311(1 g-ems. 



B<;oK IV. 95 

fmbrown'd tlie noontide Low'rs. Thus was this place 
A. happy rural seat of vai'ious view ; 
Groves whose rich trees wept od'rous g-ums and balm, 
Others whose fruit burnish'd with golden rind 
Hung- amiable, Hesperian fables true, 250 

If true, here only', and of delicious taste : 
Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks 
Grazing' the tender herb, were interposed, 
Or palmy hillock ; hv the flow'ry lap 
Of some irrigiious valley spread her store, 255 

Flow'rs of all hue, and without thorn the rose : 
Another side, umbrageous grots and caves 
Of cool recess, o'er which the mantling vine 
Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps 
Luxuriant : mean while murm'ring waters fall 260 
Down the slope hills, dispersed, or in a lake, 
That to the fringed bank with myrtle crown 'd 
Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams, 
The birds their choir apply ; airs, vernal airs. 
Breathing the smell of held and grove, attune 265 
The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, ' 
Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance. 
Led on th' eternal spring.^ Not that fair field 
Of Enna, where Proserpine gath'ring flow'rs, 
Herself a fairer flow'r by gloomy Dis 270 

Was gather'd, which cost Ceres all that pain 
To set;k her through the world , nor that sweet grove 
Of Daphne by Orontes, and th' inspired 
Castalian spring, might with this Paradise 
Of P^den strive ; nor that Nyseian isle 275 

Girt with the river Triton, v/here old Cham, 
Whom Gentiles Amnion call and Lybian Jove, 
Hid Amalthea and hex florid son 
Young Bacchus from his step-dame Rhea's eye j 
Nor where Abassin kings their issue guard, 280 

Moxvnt A.mara, though this by some supposed 

246. Imbrowii'd, from the Italian. 

256. Bentley objects to this passage as puerile, but in his usual 
spirit of hyperoriticism. 

266. Pan was a symbol of nature among' the ancients. The 
graces of mytholog-lcal allusion were never more beautifully em- 
ployed than "in the whole of this passag^e. 

281. Mount Amara was where the Abyssinian kings kept their 
chihlren guarded. It was inclostd with alabaster rocks, which it 
took a day to ascend. 

H 



yO PARADISE LOST. 

True Paradise under the Ethiop line 

By Nilus' head, inclosed with shining" rock, 

A whole day's journey high, but wide remote 

From this Assyrian garden, where the Fiend 285 

Saw undelighted all delight, all kind 

Of living creatures, new to sight, and strange. 

Two of far nobler shape erect and tall, 

Godlike erect, with native honour clad 

In naked majesty seem'd lords of all, 290 

And worthy seem'd ; for in their looks divine 

The image of their glorious Maker shone, 

Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure, 

i^Severe but in true filial freedom placed). 

Whence true authority in men ; though both 295 

Not equal, as their sex not equal seem'd : 

For contemplation he and valour form'd; 

For softness she and sweet attractive grace ; 

He for God only, she for God in him : 

His fair larg'e front and eye sublime, declared 300 

Absolute rule ; and hyacin thine locks 

Round from his parted forelock manly hung 

Clust'ring, but not beneath his shoulders broad : 

She, as a veil down to the slender waist. 

Her unadorned golden tresses wore 305 

Dishevell'd, but in wanton ringlets waved 

As the vine curls her tendrils ; which imply'd 

Subjection, but required with gentle sway. 

And by her yielded, by him best received ; 

Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, 31C 

And sweet reluctant amorous delay. 

Nor those mysterious parts were then conceal'd. 

Then was not guilty shame, dishonest shame 

Of Nature's works, honour dishonourable, 

Sin-bred, how have ye trovibled all mankind 315 

With shows instead, mere shows of seeming pure, 

And banish'd from man's life his happiest life, 

Simplicity and spotless innocence ! 

So pass'd they naked on, nor shunn'd the sight 

Of God or Angel, for they thought no ill. 320 

So hand in hand they pass'd, the loveliest pair 

That ever since in love's euibraces met ; 

299. Dr. Beiitley has proposed with propriety, the reading ot 

and instejxd of in in thU lin.:. 



BOOK IV. ^ 

Adnni the goodliest man of raen since born 
Hi5= sons ' the fairest of her daughters Eve. 
Under a tuft of shade that on a green 325 

Stccf' whisp'ring" soft, by a fresh fountain side 
They sat them down ; and after no more toil 
of their sweet gard'ning- labour than sufficed 
To reconanend cool Zephyr, and made ease 
More easy, wholesome tJiirst and appetite 330 

More grateful, to their supper-fruits they fell, 
Nectarine fruits which the compliant boughs 
Yielded them, side-loDg as they sat recline 
On the soft downy bank damask'd with flow'rs. 
Fhe savoury pulp they chev/, and in the rind 335 
Still as they thirsted scoop the brimming stream ; 
Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles 
Wanted, nor youthful dalliance as beseems 
Fair couple linlc'd in happy nuptial league, 
Alone as they. About them frisking play'd 310 

All l)easts of th' earth, since wild, and of all chase 
In wood or wilderness, forest or den : 
Sporting the lion ramp'd, and in his paw 
Dandled the kid ; bears, tigers, ounces, pards, 
Gambol'd before them : th' unwieldly elephant, 315 
To make them mirth, used all his might, and wreath'd 
His lithe proboscis ; close the serpent sly 
Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine 
His braided train, and of his fatal guile 
Gave proof unheeded ; others on the grass 350 

Couch'd, and now fill'd with pasture, gazin:^ sat, 
Or bed ward ruminating ; for the Sun, 
Declined, was hasting now with prone caieer 
To th' ocean isles, and in th' ascending- scale 
Of Heav'n the stars that usher ev'ning rose : 355 
When Satan still in gaze, as first he stood. 
Scarce thus at length fail'd speech recover'd sad : 
O Hell ! what do mine eyes with grief behold I 
Into our room of bliss thus high advanced 
Creatixres of other mould, earth-born perhaps, 360 
Not Spirits, yet to heav'nly Spirits bright 
Little inferior ; whom my thoughts pursue 
With wonder, and could love, so lively shines 
In them divine resemblance, and such grace 

362. Ps. viii. 5, Heb. '•• 7. 
F 



98 PARADISE LOST. 

The Hand tliat form'd them on their shape liatb 

pour'd. 'W5 

A.h, g-entle pair, ye little think how nigh 
Your change approaches, when all these deligh*i< 
Will vanish and deliver ye to woe, 
More woe, the more your taste is now of joy .' 
Kappy, but for so happy ill secured 3?0 

Long to continue, and this hig-h seat your Heav'n 
111 fenced for Heav'n to keep out such a foe 
As now is enter'd ; yet no purposed foe 
To you, whom I could pity thus forlorn 
Though I unpitied ; League with you I seek, 375 
And mutual amity so strait, so close, 
That I with you must dwell, or you with me 
Henceforth. My dwelling haply may not please, 
Like this fair Paradise, your sense ; yet such 
Accept your Maker's work ; he gave it me, 380 

Which I as freely give : Hell shall unfold, 
To entertain you two, her widest gates. 
And send forth all her kings ; there will be room. 
Not like these nari'ov/ limits, to receive 
Your numerous offspring- ; if no better place, 385 

Thank him who puts me loath to this revenge 
On you who wrong- me not, for him who wrong'd. 
And should I at your harmless innocence 
Melt, as I do, yet public reason just. 
Honour and empire with revenge enlargeo, 390 

By conqu'ring this new world, compels me now 
To do what else, though damn'd, I should abhor 

So spake the Fiend, and with necessity, 
The tyrant's plea, excused his dev'lisli deeds. 
Then from his lofty stand on that high tree 395 

Down he alights among the sportful herd 
Of those four-footed kinds, himself now one. 
Now other, as their shape served best his end 
Nearer to view his prey, and unespy'd 
To mark what of their state he more might learn 400 
By word or action mark'd ; about them round 
A lion now he stalks with fiery glare ; 
Then as a tiger, who by chance hath spy'd 
In some purlieu two gentle fawns at play. 
Straight couches close, theii rising changes oft 40,1 
His couchant watch, as one who chose his gTOund 



BOOK IV. qu 

Wlience rushing he might surest seize them both 
Griped in each paw : when Adam, first of men 
To first of women Eve, thus moving- speech, 
Turn'd him all ear to hear new utt'rance flow : 410 

Sole partner, and sole part, of all these joys, 
Dearer thyself than all ; needs must the Pow'r 
That made us, and for us this ample world. 
Be infinitely good, and of his good 
As liberal and free as infinite ; 415 

That raised us from the dust, and placed us here 
In all this happiness, who at his hand 
Have nothing merited, nor can perform 
Aught whereof he hath need ; he v/ho requires 
From us no other service than to keep 420 

This one, this easy charge, of all the trees 
In Paradise that bear delicious fruit 
So various, not to taste that only tree 
Of knowledge, planted by the tree of life ; 
So near grows death to life, whate'er death is, 425 
Some dreadful thing- no doubt; for well thou know^'st 
God hath pronounced it death to taste that tree, 
The only sign of our obedience left 
Among so many signs of pow'r and rule 
Conferr'd upon us, and dominion giv'n 430 

Over all other creatures that possess 
Earth, air, and sea. Then let us not think hard 
One easy prohibition, who enjoy 
Free leave so large to all things else, and choice 
Unlimited of manifold delights : 435 

But let us ever praise him, and extol 
His bounty, following our delightful task 
To prune these growing plants, and tend these flov/'rs ; 
Which, were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet. 

To whom thus Eve reply'd : thou for whom 440 
And from v,'hom I was form'd flesh of thy flesh. 
And without v/hom am to no end, my guide 
And head, what thou hast said is just and right. 
For we to him indeed all praises owe. 
And daily thanks; I chiefly who enjoy 445 

So far the happier lot, enjoying thee 
Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou 
Like consort to thyself canst no where find. 
421. Gen. il. 16. also Gen. i. 28. 



100 PARADISE LOST. 

That day I oft remember, when from sleep 

I first awaked, and found myself reposed 4.10 

Under a shade on flow'rs, much wond'ring where 

And what I was, whence thither brought, and how. 

Not distant far from thence u murm'ring- sound 

Of waters issued from a cave, and spread 

Into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved 455 

Pure as th' expanse of Heav'n. I thither went 

With unexperienced thought, and laid me down 

On the green bank, to look into the clear 

Smooth lake, that to me seem'd another sky. 

As I bent dow^n to look, just opposite 4G0 

A shape within the wat'ry gleam appear'd. 

Bending to look on me. I started back ; 

It started back : but pleased 1 soon return'd ; 

Pleased it return'd as soon v/ith answ'ring looks 

Of sympathy and love : there I had fix'd 465 

Mine eyes till now, and pined with vain desire, 

Had not a voice thus warn'd me. What thou seest, 

What there thou seest, fair Creature, is thyself; 

With thee it came and goes : but follow me. 

And I will bring thee where no shadow stays 470 

Thy coming, and thy soft embraces, he 

Whose image thou art ; him thou shalt enjoy 

Inseparably thine : to him shalt bear 

Multitudes like thyself, and thence be call'd 

Mother of Human Race. What could I do 475 

But follow straight, invisibly thus led 1 

Till I espy'd thee, fair indeed and tall. 

Under a platan ; yet methought less fair, 

Less winning soft, less amiably mild, 

Than that smooth wat'ry image. Back I turn'd : 480 

Thou following cry'dst aloud, Return, fair Eve; 

Whom fly'st thou'? whom thou fly'st, of him thou art; 

His flesh, his bone : to give thee being I lent 

Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart 

Substantial life, to have thee by my side 485 

Henceforth an individual solace dear; 

Part of my soul I seek thee, and thee claim 

My other half: with that thy gentle hand 

451, Milton's first edition read thus; the second, Under a sltad^t 

offiow''Ys, but they reposed not under, but on tlowera- 

483. Gen ii. 23. 



BOOR IV. 101 

Seized mine ; I yielded, and from that time see 
How beauty is excell'd by manly grace 490 

And wisdcm, which alone is truly fair. 

So spake our gen'ral mother, and with eyes 
Of conjugal attraction unreproved, 
And meek surrender, half embracing lean'd 
On our first father ; half her swelling- breast 495 

Naked met his under the flowing gold 
Of her loose tresses hid : he in delight. 
Both of her beauty and submissive charms, 
Smiled with superior love, as Jupiter 
On Juno smiles when he impregns the clouds 500 
That shed May flow'rs ; and press'd her matron Jip 
With kisses pure. Aside the Devil turn'd 
For envy, yet with jealous leer malign 
Eyed them askance, and to himself thus 'plain'd ; 

Sight hateful I sight tormenting ! thus these two, 
Imparadised in one another's arms, 506 

The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill ' 

Of bliss on bliss ; while I to Hell am thrust. 
Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire. 
Among our other torments not the least, 5i0 

Still unfulfill'd with pain of longing, pines. 
Yet let me not forget what I have gain'd 
From their own mouths : all is not theirs, it seems; 
One fatal tree there stands, of Knowledge call'd, 
Foi'bidden them to taste : Knowledge forbidden? 515 
Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord 
Envy them that ? Can it be sin to know ? 
Can it be death? And do they only stand 
By ignorance? Is that their happy state. 
The proof of their obedience and heir faith 1 62(1 
O fair foundation laid whereon to build 
Their ruin! Hence I will excite their minds 
With more desire to know, and to reject 
Envious commands, invented with design 
To keep them low whom knowledge might exalt 5*25 
Equal with Cods : aspiring to be such, 
They taste and die. What likelier can ensue? 
But first -with narrow search I must walk round 

499. .Jupiter is here fig-urative of the Heaven, and Juno of the S'l 

50J. Imparadised this word had been used before, b^ 

Sir Pbilip Sidney in the Arcadia. 



102 PAJRADISE LOST. 

This garden, and no corner leave unspy'd: 

A chance but chance may lead where I may meet 530 

Some wand'ring- Spirit of Heav'n by fountain side, 

Or in thick shade retired, from him to draw 

What further wouli be learn'd. Live while ye may, 

Yet happy pair; enjoy, till I return, 

Short pleasures, for long- woes are to succeed. 535 

So saying-, his proud step he scornful turn'd, 
But with sly circumspection, and began 
Thro' wood, thro* waste, o'er hill, o'er dale, his roam. 
Meanwhile in utmost longitude, where Heav'n 
With earth and ocean meets, the setting- Sun 540 
Slowly descended, and with right aspect 
Against the eastern gate of Paradise 
Level! 'd his ev'ning rays : it was a rock 
Of alabaster, piled up to the clouds. 
Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent 545 

Accessible from earth, one entrance high; 
YThe rest was craggy cliff, that overhung 
Still as it rose, impossible to climb. 
Betwixt these rock^^ pillars Gabriel sat, 
Chief of th' angelic guards, awaiting night ; 550 

About him exercised heroic games 
Th' unarmed youth of Heav'n, but nigh at hand 
Celestial armoury, shields, helms, and spears. 
Hung high with diamond flaming, and with gold. 
Thither came Uriel, gliding through th' even 555 
On a sun-beam, swift as a shooting star 
In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fired 
Impress the air, and shews the mariner 
From what point of his compass to beware 
Impetuous winds. He thus began in haste : 560 

Gabriel, to thee thy course by lot hath giv'n 
Charge and strict watch, that to this happy place 
No evil thing approach or enter in. 
This day at highth of noon came to my sphere 
A. Spirit, zealous, as he seem'd, to know 565 

More of th' Almighty's works, and chiefly Man, 

549, For mention of Gabriel, see Daniel vii. and ix. also Luke i. 
his name signifies the man or the power of God. 

555. Through th'' even, or that part of the heavens now becom- 
ing- dark with the approaching evening-. 

561. This is in allusion to the courses of the priests in the tem- 
ple service : see 1 Chron. xxiv. and Luke i. 8, 9. 



BOOK IV. 108 

God's latest image : I described his way 
Bent all on speed, and mark'd his aery gait ; 
But in the mount that lies from Eden north, 
Where he first lighted, soon discem'd his looks 570 
Alien from Heav'n, with passions far obscured: 
Mine eye pursued him still, but under shade 
Lost sight of him. One of the banish'd crew, 
I fear, hath ventured from the deep, to raise 
New troubles : him thy care must be to find. 575 

To whom the winged warrior thus return'd : 
Uriel, no wonder if thy perfect sight. 
Amid the Sun's bright circle, where thou sitt'st, 
See far and wide : in at this gate none pass 
The vigilance here placed, but such as come 580 
Well known from lleav'n ; and since meridian hour 
No creature thence : if Spirit of other sort 
So minded, have o'erleap'd these earthy bounds 
On purpose, hard thou know'st it to exclude 
Spiritual substance with corporeal bar. 585 

But if within the circuit of these walks, 
In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom 
I'hou tell'st, by morrow dawning I shall know. 

So promised he ; and Uriel to his charge 589 

Return'don that bright beam, whose point now raised, 
Bore him slope downward to the Sun, now falVn 
Beneath th' Azores; whether the prime orb, 
Incredible how swift, had thither roU'd 
Diurnal, or this less voluble earth. 
By shorter flight to th' east, had left him there 595 
Arraying with reflected purple' and gold 
The clouds that on his western throne attend. 
Now came still ev'ning on, and twilight grey 
Had in her sober liv'ry all things clad ; 
Silence accompanied : for beast and bird, 600 

They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, 

567. The rirst ima^e of God was Christ; the second, Angels; 
the last, Man. — Described, that is, observed attentively. 

592. The Azoresrire islands in the Atlantic, off the coast of Por- 
tugal. The word is to be pronounced as three syllables. 

594. Vohibte, with the u pronounced long. 

596. This is the first evening in the time of the poem, and it fur- 
nishes Milton with an opportunity of putting forth the splendour 
of his descriptive genius in one of its most magnificent efforts. 
One of the commentators on this passage absurdly remarks that it 
was the poet's weak eves made him love to mention the evenmg^ 
iwilli/ht. 



104 PARADISE LOST. 

Were slunk, all but the wakeful nig-hting-ale : 
She all night long' her am'rous descant sung : 
Silence was pleased. Now glow'd the firmament 
With living sapphires : Hesperus, that led 005 

The starry host, rode brightest, till the Moon, 
Rising in clouded majesty, at length 
Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light, 
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.. 

When Adam thus to Eve : Fair Consort,''th' hour 
Of night, and all things now retired to rest, 611 

Mind us of like repose, since God hath set 
Labour and rest, as day and night, to men 
Successive ; and the timely dew of sleep 
Now falling, with soft slumb'rous weight inclines 
Our e*ye-lids. Other creatures all day long 616 

Rove idle, unemploy'd, and less need rest; 
Man hath his daily work of body or mind 
Appointed, which declares his dignity. 
And the regard of Heav'n on all his ways ; 620 

While other animals inactive range ; 
And of their doings God takes no account. 
To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east 
With first approach of light, we must be ris'n, 
And at our pleasant labour, to reform 625 

Yon flow'ry arbours, yonder alleys green. 
Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown, 
That mock our scant manuring, and require 
More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth : 
Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums, 630 
That lie bestrown unsightly and unsmooth. 
Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease ; 
Meanwhile, as Nature wills, Night bids us rest. 

To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty' adorn 'd : 
My Author and Disposer, what thou bidst, 635 

Unargued, I obey ; so God ordains ; 
God is thy law, thou mine ; to know no more 
Is woman's happiest knowledge and her praise. 
With thee conversing I forget all time ; 
All seasons and their change, all please alike. 640 
Sweet is the breath of Morh, her rising sweet, 

627. Walks in the first edition. 
628. Manuring ; in tlie sense of the French manoeuvre^ to nuf 
wage or cultivate. 
640. The seasons of the day, not of the year, are here meant. 



BOOK IV. 105 

With charm of earliest birds ; pleasant the Sun, 
When first on this delightful land he spreads 
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, 
Glist'ring with dew ; fragrant the fertile earth 645 
After soft show'rs ; and sweet the coming on 
Of gTateful er'ning mild ; then silent Night, 
With this her solemn bird, and this fair Moon, 
And these the gems of Heav'n, her starry train ; 
But neither breath of Morn, when she ascends 650 
With charm of earliest birds ; nor rising Sun 
On this delightful land ; nor herb, fruit, flower, 
Glist'ring with dew ; nor fragrance after showers ; 
Nor grateful ev'ning mild ; nor silent Night 
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by Moon, 655 
Or glitt'ring star-light, without thee is sweet. 
But wherefore all night long shine these ? For whom 
This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut ail eyes O 
To whom our general ancestor reply'd : -^ 

Daughter of God and Man, accomplish'd Eve, 6f50 
These have their course to finish round the earth 
By morrow ev'ning, and from land to land 
In order, though to nations yet unborn, 
Minist'ring light prepared, they set and rise ; 
Lest total darkness should by night regain 665 

Her old possession, and extinguish life 
In nature and all things, which these soft fires 
Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat 
Of various influence, foment and warm. 
Temper or nourish, or in part shed down 670 

Their stellar virtue on all kinds that grow 
On earth, made hereby apter to receive 
Perfection from the Sun's more potent ray._ 
/These then, though unbeheld in deep of night, 674 
Shine not in vain ; nor think, tho' men were none. 
That Heav'n would want spectators, God want praise 

648. A very ingenious essay has been written, by whom I forg-et, 
to shew that the ancients considered the nighting'ale's song'cheer- 
fill. 661. Those is read in some editions. 

671. Milton's affectation of learning- has been mentioned an-i 
objected to. I venture, howevier, to observe, though he may seem 
to have erred when such passages in his poem are subjected to the 
severe and particularizing eye of a critic, that, taken as a whole, 
its grandeur and splendid effect upon the mind would have been 
considerably less, had these appliances of a high knowledge been 
unemployed in it illustration. 

F 2 



106 PARADISE LOST. 

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 
Unseen, both when we wake and wlien we sleep. 
All these with ceaseless praise his works behold, 
Both day and night. How often from the steep 680 
Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard 
Celestial voices to the midnight air, 
Sole, or responsive each to other's note, 
Singing their great Creator! Oft in bands 084 

While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk 
With heav'nly touch of instrumental sounds, 
In full harmonic number join'd, their songs 
Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to Heav'n. 
" ' Thus talking hand in hand alone they pass'd 
On to their blissful bow'r ; it was a place 690 

Chosen by the Sov'reign Planter, when he framed 
All things to Man's delightful use. The roof 
Of thickest covert was inwoven shade 
Laurel and myrtle, and what higher gfew 
Of firm and fragrant leaf : on either side 695 

Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub 
Fenced up the verdant wall ; each beauteous fiow'r, 
Iris all hues, roses, and jessamine, 
Rear'd high their flourish'd heads between, and 
Mosaic : underfoot the violet, [wrought 

Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay 701 

Broider'd the ground, more colour'd than with stone 
Of costliest emblem. Other creature here. 
Beast, bird, insect, or worm, durst enter none : 
Such was their awe of Man. In shadier bower 705 
More sacred and sequester'd, though but feign'd, 
Pan or Sylvanus never slept, nor Nymph 
Nor Faunus haunted. Here, in close recess. 
With flowers, garlands, and sweet-smellbig herbs, 
Espoused Eve deck'd first her nuptial bed, 710 

And heav'nly choirs the hymenean sung. 
What day the genial Angel to our sire 
Brought her in naked beauty more adorn'd, 
More lovely than Pandora, whom the Gods 
Endow'd with all their gifts: and O too like 715 

700. Homer, II. xiv. S47. 

714. Pandora, the fable of Pandora's box needs no explanation. 

— iuthentic fircy the original, and prototype, or the source of 

earthly firfi, — Unwiser is not a comparative here, but means verv 

unwise 



BOOK IV. 107 

In sad event, when to th' unwiser son 
Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnared 
Mankind with her fair looks, to be avenged 
On him who had stole Jove's authentic fire. 

Thus at their shady lodge arrived, both stood, 720 
Both turn'd, and under open sky adored 
The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heav'n, 
Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe. 
And starry pole : Thou also mad'st the night, 
Maker omnipotent, and thou the day, 725 

Which we in our appointed work employ 'd 
Have finish'd, happy in our mutual help 
And mutual love, the rrown of all our bliss 
Ordain'd by thee ; and this delicious place 
For us too large, where thy abundance wants 730 
Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground. 
But thou hast promised from us two a race 
To fill the earth, who shall with us extol 
Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake 
And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep. 735 

This said unanimous, and other rites 
Observing none, but adoration pure 
Which God likes best, into their inmost bower 
Handed they went ; and eased the putting off 
These troublesome disguises which we wear, 740 
Straight side by side were laid ; nor tuni'd I ween 
Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites 
Mysterious of connubial love refused : 
Whatever hypocrites austerely talk 
Of purity, and place, and innocence, 745 

Defaming as impure what God declares 
Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all. 
Our Maker bids increase ; who bids abstain 
But our Destroyer, foe to God and Man ? 
Hail wedded Love, mysterious law, true source 750 
Of human offspring, sole propriety 
In Paradise of all things common else. 
By thee adult'rous lust was driven from men. 
Among the bestial herds to range ; by thee, 
Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, 755 

746. In allusion to 1 Tim. iv. 1, 2, 3. 
750. Tliis apostroplie is said to be borrowrd from onsoi" Tasuo* 
letters. Mysterious: See Eph. v. 32. 



103 PARADISE LOST. 

Relations dear, and all the charities 
Of father, son, and brother, first were known. 
Far be 't, that I should write thee sin or blame, 
Or think thee unbefitting holiest place, 
Pei'petual fountain of domestic sweets, 760 

Whose bed is undefiled and chaste pronounced, 
^Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs used. 
Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights 
His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings. 
Reigns here and revels ; not in the bought smile 7 65 
Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd. 
Casual fruition ; nor in court-amours, 
Mix'd dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball. 
Or serenate, v/hich the starved lover sings 
To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain. 770 

These, lull'd by nightingales, embracing, slept, 
And on their naked limbs the flow'ry roof 
Shower 'd roses, which the morn repair'd. Sleep on, 
Blest pair ! and O yet happiest, if ye seek 
No happier state, and know to know no more. 775 

Now had Night measured v.'ith her shadowy cone 
Half way up hill this vast sublunar vault. 
And from their ivory port the Cherubim 
Forth issuing at th' accustom'd hour, stood arm'd 
To their night-watches in warlike parade, 780 

When Gabriel to his next in power thus spake : 

Uzziel, half these draw off, and coast the south 
With strictest watch ; these other wheel the north ; 
Our circuit meets full west. As flame they part ; 
Half wheeling to the shield, half to the spear. 785 
From these, two strong and subtle Spirits he call'd 
That near him stood, and gave them thus in charge : 

Ithuriel and Zephon, with wing'd speed 
Search thro' this garden; leave unsearch'd no nook; 
But chiefly where those two fair creatures lodge. 
Now laid perhaps asleep, secure of harm. 791 

This evening from the Sun's decline arrived 

756. The charities ; the affections called forth by the difierent 
relations of life. 761. Heb. xiii. ^. 

769. Serenate : Milton follows th€ Italian in his spelliiig^. 

Starved ; cold, unaccepted. 

782. Uzziel, the strength of God. 

784. St?e Heb. chap. i. 

78S. lihuriely the uiscoverv of God. ZejjhoVy a secret, 

or searcher of secrets. 



BOOK IV. 109 

Who tells of some infernal Spirit seen 
Hitherward bent (who could have thought?) escaped 
The bars of Hell, on errand bad no doubt : 705 

Such where ye find, seize fast, and hither bring". 

So saying-, on he led his radiant files. 
Dazzling the moon ; these to the bower direct, 
In search of whom they sought : him there they found, 
Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve, 800 

A.ssaying by his devilish art to reach 
The organs of her fancy', and with them forge 
illusions as he list, phantasms and dreams ; 
Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint 
Vh' animal spirits that from pm-e blood arise, 805 
Like gentle breaths from rivers pure, thence raise 
At least distemper'd, discontented thoughts, 
V^ain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires, 
Blown up with high conceits, ingendering pride. 
Him thus intent Ithuriel with his spear 810 

Fouch'd lightly ; for no falsehood can endure 
Touch of celestial temper, but returns 
Of force to its own likeness. Up he starts. 
Discovered and surprised. As when a spark 
Lights on a heap of nitrous powder, laid 815 

Fit for the tun some magazine to store 
zigainst a rumour'd war, the smutty grain 
With sudden blaze diffused, inflames the air ; 
So started up in his own shape the Fiend. 
Back stept those two fair Angels, half amazed 820 
So sudden to behold the grisly king ; 
Yet thus, unmoved with fear, accost him soon : 

Wbich of those rebel Spirits, adjudged to Hell, 
Com'st thou, escaped thy prison 1 and transform'd, 
Why sat'st thou like an enemy in wait, 825 

Here watching &t the head of these that sleep? 

Know ye not then, said Satan, fill'd with scorn, 
Know ye not me ? Ye knew me once no mate 
For you ; there sitting >7hcre ye du-st not soar. 
Not to know me. arg-^Jie^ yourselves unknown, 830 
The lowest of your vhrcxig ; cr if yc K.riow, 
Why ask ye, and superfiu^ou? bs?gi,T 

796. Hither f that is, wherever tha* syflaKsr k..»a;i/« afterwarda be. 

804. Virgil, Mne^}, \>. » 1. 

814. Ariosto employs the sawie b^niiae. 



no PARADISE LOST. 

Your message, like to end as much in vain ? 

To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn . 
Think not, revolted Spirit, thy shape the same, 835 
Or undiminish'd brightness, to be known 
As when thou stood'st in Heav'n upright and pure , 
That glory then, when thou no more wast good, 
Departed from thee' ; and thou resemblest now 
Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foul. 840 

But come ; for thou, be sure, shalt give account 
To him AVho sent us, whose charge is to keep 
This place inviolable, and these from harm. 

So spake the Cherub ; and his grave rebuke, 
Severe in youthful beauty, added grace 845 

Invincible. Abash'd the Devil stood. 
And felt how awful goodness is, and saw 
Virtue* in her shape how lovely ; saw and pined 
His loss ; but chiefly to find here observed 
His lustre visibly impair'd ; yet seem'd 850 

Undaunted. If I must contend, said he, 
Best with the best, the sender not the sent^ 
Or all at once ; more glory will be won, 
Or less be lost. Thy fear, said Zephon bold, 
Will save us trial what the least can do 855 

Single against thee wicked, and thence weak. 

The Fiend reply'd not, overcome with rage ; 
But like a pioud steed rein'd, went haughty on, 
Champing his iron curb. To strive or fiy 
He held it vain ; awe from above had quell'd SCO 
His heart, not else dismayed. Now drew they nigh 
The western point, where those half-rounding guards 
Just met, and closing stood in squadron joind, 
Awaiting next command. To whom their chief, 
Gabriel from the front, thus call'd aloud: 805 

O friends, 1 hear the tread of nimble feet 
Hasting this way, and now by glimpse discern 
Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade, 
A.nd with them comes a third of regal port, 
But faded splendour wan ; who, by his gait 870 

And fierce demeanour, seems the prince of Hell, 

835. Bentley proposes a new readine, ' Or brig-htness undimj- 
DishM' in the next line : Newton to change thy into by in the 
present. 

866. It is observed, that Milton has followed Homer i;i this 
episode. See 11. x. 533. 



BuoK IV. in 

Not likely to part hence v/ithout contest : 
Stand firm, for in his look defiance LOurs. 

He scarce had ended, when those two approach 'd, 
And brief related whom they brought, where found, 
How busy' J, in what form and posture couch'd. 876 

To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake : 
Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescribed 
To thy transgressions, and disturb'd the charge 
Of others, who approve not to transgress 880 

By thy example, but have pow'r and right 
To question thy bold entrance on this place ; 
Employ'd it seems to violate sleep, and those 
Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss? 

To whom thus Satan v/ith contemptuous brow : 885 
Gabriel, thou hadst in Heav'n th* esteem of wise, 
And such I held thee ; but this question ask'd 
Puts me in doubt. Lives there who loves his pain? 
Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell, 

Though thither doom d? Thou would'st thyself, no 
doubt, 890 

Vnd boldly venture to whatever place 
Farthest from pain,where thoumight'sthope to change 
Torment with ease, and soonest recompense 

Dole with delight, which in this place I sought ; 
To thee no reason, who knowest only good, 895 

But evil hast not try'd : and wilt object 

His will who bound us ? Let him surer bar 

His iron gates, if he intends our stay 

In that dark durance : thus much what was ask'd. 

The rest is true, they found me where they say; 900 

But that implies not violence or harm. 

Thus he in scorn. The warlike Angel moved 

Disdainfully, half smiling, thus reply d : 
O loss of one in Heav'n to judge of wise, 

Since Satan fell, whom folly overthrew, 905 

And now returns him from his prison 'scaped. 

Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise 

Or not, who ask what boldness brought him liither, 

Unlicensed from his bounds in Hell prescribed ; 

So wise he jxidges it to fly from pain 910 

878. Bentley thinks transgressions should be taken in the een&ft 
of trcinscursions, that is, to pass over bounds. . 

893, Torment with ease, a Latin idioDo.. 

15. 



112 PARADISE LOST. 

However, and to 'scape his punishmeixt. 

So judg-e thou still, pi-esumptuous, till the wrath, 

Which thou incurr st by flying, meet thy flight 

Sev'nfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell 

AVhich taught thee yet no better, that no pain 915 

Can equal anger inflnite provoked. 

But wherefore thou alone? Wherefore with thee 

Came not all Hell "croke loose 1 Is pain to them 

Less pain, less to be fled 1 or thou than they 

Less hardy to endure? Courageous Chief, 920 

The first in flight from pain, hadst thou alleged 

To thy deserted host this cause of flight. 

Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive. 

To which the Fiend thus answer d, frowning stem : 
Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain, 925 

Insulting Angel : well thou know'st I stood 
Thy fiercest, when in battle to thy aid 
The blasting ^'olley'd thunder made all speed, 
And seconded thy else not dreaded spear. 
But still thy words at random, as before, 930 

Argue thy inexperience what behoves 
From hard assays and ill successes past, 
A faithful leader, not to hazard all 
Through ways of danger by himself untry'd : 
I therefore, I alone first undertook 935 

To wing the desolate abyss, and spy 
This new-created w^orld, whereof in Hell 
Fame is not silent, here in hope to find 
Better abode, and my afflicted Pow'rs 
To settle here on earth, or in mid-air; 940 

Though for possession put to try once more 
What thou and thy gay legi'^ ..s dare against; 
Whose easier bus'ness were to serve their Lord 
High up in Heavn, with songs to hymn his throne, 
And practised distances to cringe, not fight. 945 

To whom the warrior Angel soon reply 'd : 
To say and straight unsay, pretending first 
Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy. 
Argues no leader, but a liar traced, 
Satan, and couldst thou faithful add? O name, 950 

927. Thy fiercest ; the adjective as a substantive, as in instance* 

already alleged. 

92a. Thy is read in the second edition. 



BOOK IV. 113 

O sacred name of faithfulness profaned ! 

Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew? 

Army of Fiends, fit body to fit head. 

Was this your discipline and faith engaged, 

Your military' obedience, to dissolve 95f, 

Allegiance to th' acknowledged Pow'r Supreme? 

And thou, sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem 

Patron of liberty, who more than thou 

Once fawn'd, and cringed, and servilely adored 

Heav'n's awful Monarch ? wherefore but in hope 960 

To dispossess him, and thyself to reign? 

But mark what 1 arreed thee now, Avaunt ; 

Fly thither whence thou fledst : if from this hour 

Within these hallow'd limits thou appear, 

Back to th' infernal pit I drag thee chain'd, 965 

And seal thee so, as henceforth not to scorn 

The facile gates of Hell too slightly barr'd. 

So threaten'd he ; but Satan to no threats 
Gave heed, but, waxing more in rage, reply'd : 

Then when I am thy captive, talk of chains, 970 
Proud limitary Cherub ; but ere then 
Far heavier load thyself expect to feel 
From my prevailing arm, though Heav'n's King 
Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers. 
Used to the yoke, draw'st his triumphant wheels 975 
In progress through the road of Heav'n star-paved. 

While thus he spake, th' angelic squadron bright 
Turn'd fiery red, sharp'ning in mooned horns 
Their phalanx, and began to hem him round 
With ported spears, as thick as when a field 980 

Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends 
Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind 
Sways them ; the careful plowman doubting stands. 
Lest on the threshing-floor his hopeful sheaves 
Prove chaff. On th' other side Satan, alarm'd, 985 
Collecting all his might, dilated stood. 
Like Teneriff or Atlas, unremoved: 



962. Arreed, to decree or award. 

965. Drag ; the present for the future. 966. Rev. xx. 3. 

971. Limi/ary, setting- bounds to. Ps. xviii. 10 

974. Ezek. chap. i. x. and xi. 

980. Ported, borne pointed towards him. 

986. Tasso applies t4ie epithet disteso to his hero Argantes when 

preparing- to fi;?ht with Tancred. 



Ill PARADlSi:: LOST. 

His stature reached the sky, and on his crest 
Sat horror plumed ; nor wanted in his grasp [deeds 
What seem'd both spear and shield. Now dreadful 
Might have ensued, nor only Paradise 991 

In this commotion, but the starry cope 
Of Heav'n perhaps, or all the elements 
At least had gone to wrack, disturbed and torn 
With violence of this conflict, had not soon 995 

Th' Eternal to prevent such horrid fray, 
Hung- forth in Heav'n his golden scales, yet seen 
Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign, 
Wherein all things created first he weigh'd, 
The pendulous rotmd earth with balanced air 1000 
In counterpoise, now ponders all events, 
Battles, and realms : in these he put two weights, 
The sequel each of parting and of fight ; 
The latter quick up flew, and kick'd the beam ; 
Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the Fiend : 1005 
Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know'st mine ; 
Neither our own, but giv'n. What folly then 
To boast Avhat arms can do 1 since thine no more 
Than Heav'n permits, nor mine, though doubled now 
To trample thee as mire : for proof look up, 1010 
And read thy lot in yon celestial sign, [weak, 

Where thou art weigh'd, and shewn how light, how 
If thou resist. The Fiend look'd up, and knew 
His mounted scale aloft : nor more ; but fled 
Murm'ring, and with him fled the shades of night. 

989. A powerful personification of horror. 

1002. The same alleg-or\ is employed by both Homer and Virg'ii, 
and in Scripture we find Daniel informing' Belshazzar that he was 
weighed in the balances: for illustrations of this ]tassage, see Job 
xxviii. xxxvii. Isa. xl. 1. Sam. ii. 3. Proverbs xvi. 2. and Dan. v. 

1003. Bentley proposes to read signal instead ot sequel, bnt the 
latter is preferable, see Horn. Ii. viii. 69. also Virgil, ^.n. xii. 725. 

1012. Milton follows Scripture and not the poets in making 
the scale ascend in token of victory. 



BOOK \. 

THE ARGUMENT. 

Morning approachefl, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome 
iroam ; he likes it not, yet comforts her : They come forth to 
Iheir day labours: Their morning- hymn at the door of tlieir 
bower. God, to render man inexcusable, sends Raphael to ad- 
monish him of his obedience, of his free estate, of his enemy 
near at hand, who he is, and why his enemy, and whatever else 
may avail Adam to know. Ra[>hael comes down to Paradise, iiis 
appearance described, his coniing discerned by Adam afar oi), 
sitting- at the door of his bower ; he goes out to meet him, brings 
him to his lodge, entertains him with the choicest fruits of Para- 
dise got together by Eve ; their discourse at tible : Raphael {)er- 
forms his message, minds Adam of his state and of his enemy ; 
relates, at Adam's request, who that enemy is, and how he came 
to be so, beginning from his first revolt in Heaven, and the oc- 
casion thereof; how he drew his legions after him to the parts 
of the north, and there incited them to rebel with him, persuading 
all but only Abdiel a Seraph ; who in argument dissuades and 
opposes him, then forsakes him. 

Now morn her rosy steps in tli' eastern clime 

Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, 

When Adam -waked, so custom'd, for his sleep 

Was aery light from pure dig-estion bred. 

And temp'rate vapours bland, Avhich th' only soiuid 5 

Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan, 

Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song 

Of birds on ev'ry bough ; so much the more 

His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve 

With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek, 10 

As through v-nquiet rest ; he on his side 

Leaning, half raised, with looks of cordial love 

Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld 

Beauty, v/hich whether waking or asleep, 

Shot forth peculiar graces ; then with voice 15 

Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes. 

Her hand soft touching, whisper 'd thus : Awake, 

My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, 

Heav'n's last best gift, my ever new delight, 

Awake ; thie morning shines, and the fi-esh field 20 

1. This IS a lovely description of morning, and the more beau- 
tiful because not separated from the consideration of the actors 
in the poem.— 1 think it will be generally found that poets ot 
great eminence seldom indulge themselves in pure description, 
or rather, that their descripiions are almost always mixed up with 
circumstance and detail, 

$. Which refers to deep% not to vapours* 



1]6 PARADISE LOST. 

Calls us ? we lose the prime, to mark how spring" 
Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove. 
What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed. 
How Nature paints her colours, how the bee 
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet. 25 

Such whisp'ring waked her, but with startled eye 
On Adam, whom embracing-, thus she spake : 

O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, 
My glory, my perfection, glad I see 
Thy face, and morn return'd ; for I this night 30 
(Such night till this I never pass'd) have dream 'd, 
If dream'd, not as I oft am wont, of thee. 
Works of day past, or morrow's next design, 
J5ut of offence and trouble, which my mind 
Knew never till this irksome night. Methought, 35 
Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk. 
With gentle voice ; I thought it thine : it said. 
Why sleep'st thou. Eve ? now is the pleasant time, 
The cool, the silent, save where silence yields 
To the night- warbling bird, that now awake 40 

Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd song ; now reigns 
Full orb d the moon, and with more pleasing light 
Shadowy sets off the face of things ; in vain. 
If none regard ; Heav'n wakes v/ith all his eyes, 
Whom to behold but thee, Nature's desire? 45 

In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment 
Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze. 
I rose as at thy call, but found thee not ; 
To find thee I directed then my walk ; 
And on, methought, alone I pass'd through ways 50 ^ 
That brought me on a sudden to the tree 
Of interdicted knowledge : fair it seem'd. 
Much fairer to my fancy than by day : 
And as I wond'ring look'd, beside it stood 54 

24. I am inclined to think that this mention of nature is the 
only blemish in the passag-e : none of Adam's curious qnestionir.g-s 
which have been reprobated by writers, were unnatural in a being- 
continually contemplating: the universe with an undi iimed eye ; 
but it is very inconsistent to suppose he would personify the prin- 
ciple of thihg-s, and separate its operation from the immsdiate 
action of the divine hand.— Nature was a noble and splendid con- 
ception in the mind of the heathen poets and philosopners, but 
it i:, a puerile contradiction after the thoughts have been long 
fixed on a personal Deitv. 

41. His and her are applied by Milton to the nightingule 
indifferently. 



BOOK V. 117 

One shaped and wingM, like one of those fromHeav'n 

By us oft seen. His dewy locks distill d 

Ambrosia : on that tree he also gazed ; 

And O fair plant, said he, with fruit surcharged. 

Deigns none to ease thy load and taste thy sweet 

Nor God, nor Man? is knowledge so despised? CO 

Or envy', or what reserve forbids to taste ? 

Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold 

Longer thy offer'd good : why else set here ? 

This said, he paused not, but with vent'rous arm 

He pluck'd, he tasted! Me damp horror chill'd 65 

At such bold words vouch d with a deed so bold : 

But he thus overjoy'd, O fruit divine, 

Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropt, 

Forbidden here, it seems, as only lit 

For Gods, yet able to make Gods of Men : 70 

And why not Gods of Men, since good, the moi'e 

Communicated, more abundant grows, 

The Author not impair'd, but honour d more ? 

Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve, 

Partake thou also ; happy though thou art, 75 

Happier thou may'st be, worthier canst not be : 

Taste this, and be henceforth among the Gods 

Thyself a Goddess, not to earth confined. 

But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes 

Ascend to Heav'n, by merit thine, and see 80 

What life the Gods live there, and such live thou. 

So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held, 

Ev'n to my mouth, of that same fruit held part 

Which he had pluck'd. The pleasant sav'ry smell 

So quicken'd appetite, that I, methought, 85 

Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds 

With him I flew, and underneath beheld 

The earth outstretch'd immense, a prospect wide 

And various ; wond'ring at my flight and change 

To this high exaltation ; suddenly 90 

My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk, down, 

And fell asleep ; but O how glad 1 waked 

To find this but a dream ! Thus Eve her night 

Related ; and thus Adam answer'd sad : 

Best image of myself and dearer half, 95 

The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep 
Aflects me equally ; nor can I like 



118 PARADISK LOST. 

This uncouth dream, of evil sprung I fear ; 

Yet evil vi^hence 1 In thee can harbour none, 

Created pure. But know, that in the soul 100 

Are many lesser faculties, that serve 

Reason as chief: among these Fancy next 

Her office holds. Of all external things 

Which the five watchful senses represent, 

She forms imaginations, aery shapes ; 105 

Which Reason joining or disjoinijig, frames 

All what we' affirm or what deny, and call 

Our knowledge or opinion ; then retires 

Into her private cell when Nature rests. 

Oft in her absence mimic Fancy wakes IIO 

To imitate her ; but mi.sjoining shapes. 

Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams, 

111 matching- words and deeds long past or late. 

Some such resemblances methinks I find 

Of our last evening's talk, in this thy dream, 115 

But with addition strange ; yet be not sad. 

Evil into the mind of God or Man 

May come and go, so unapproved, and leave 

No spot or blame behind : Which gives me hope 

That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream 120 

Waking thou never wilt consent to do. 

Be not dishearten'd then, nor cloud those looks 

That wont to be more cheerful and serene 

Than when fair morning first smiles on the world ; 

And let us to our fresh employments rise 125 

Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers 

That open now their choicest bosom'd smells, 

Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store. 

So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheer'd ; 
Eut silently a gentle tear let fall 130 

From either eye, and wiped them with her hair. 
Two other precious drops that ready stood, 
Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell 
Kiss'd, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse 
And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended. 135 

So all was clear'd, and to the field they haste. 
But first, from under shady arborous roof 
Soon as they forth were come to open sight 

117. God in this line means angel; the word is so applied in 
Scripture sometintee: see also John x. 36. and refer to line 60. 



BOOK V, 119 

Of day-spring, and tlie Sun, whc scarce up risen. 

With whieels yet hov'ring- o'er the ocean brim, 140 

Shot parallel to th' earth his dewy ray. 

Discovering- in wide landskip all the east 

Of Paradise and Eden's happy plains, 

Lowly they bow'd, adoring, and began 

Their orisons, each morning duly paid 145 

In various style ; for neither various style 

Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise 

Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced or sung 

Unmeditated ; such prompt eloquence 

Flow'd from their lips, in prose or num'rous verse. 

More tuneable than needed lute or harp 151 

To add more sweetness ; and they thus began : 

These are thy glorious works. Parent of Good, 
Almighty, thine this universal frame. 
Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then I 
Unspeakable, who sit'st above these Heav'ns 156 

To us invisible, or dimly seen 
In these thy lowest works : yet these declare 
Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine. 
Speak ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, 160 

Angels ; for ye behold Him, and with songs 
And choral symphonies, day without night. 
Circle his throne rejoicing ! ye in Heav'n, 
On Earth join all ye Creatures to extol 
Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. 165 
Fairest of stars, last in the train of night. 
If better thou belong not to the dawn, 
Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn 
With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, 
While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. 170 

Thou Sun, of this great w^orld both eye and soul. 
Acknowledge him thy greater; sound his praise 
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, 
And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou fall'st. 
Moon, that now meets the orient Sun, now fly'st, 175 
With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies, 

133. This prayer is a close imitation of the 148th Psalm : see 
also the Canticle in our Liturary taken from it. 
155. Wisd. xiii. 345. 

162, Day without nvghi, without such night as ours: as the 
Author afterward explains it, Book vi. 8. 

172, Bentley proposes to read * him Creator,' for * thy greater.' 



\20 PAilADiSE LOST. 

And ye five other wand'riag fires that move 

[n mystic dance not without song, i-esound 

His praise, who out of darkncis call'd up light. 

Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth ISO 

Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run 

Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix 

And nourish all things ; let your ceaseless change 

Vary to our great Maker still new praise. 

Ye Mists and Exhalations that now rise 185 

From hill or steaming- lake, dusky or grey. 

Till the Sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, 

In honour to the world's great Author rise. 

Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky. 

Or wet the thirsty earth with falling show'rs, 190 

Rising or falling- still advance his praise. 

His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow 

Breathe soft or loud ; and wave your tops, ye Pines* 

With every plant; in sign of worship wave. 

Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow, 195 

Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. 

Join voices all ye living Souls ; ye Birds, 

That singing up to Heaven-gate ascend, 

Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. 

Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk 200 

The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep, 

Witness if I be silent, morn or ev'n. 

To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade. 

Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. 

Hail Universal Lord, be bounteous still 205 

To give us only good ; and if the night 

Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd. 

Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark. 

So pray'd they innocent, and to their thoughts 

197. Soul is here used as in Scripture, frequently to signify any 
living thina:. 

202. The commentators have exercised their injrenuity to ex- 
plain why Milton used the sing-ular /in this line when it would 
eeem that both Adam and Eve were expressing' themselves in the 
hymn. Bentley reads we, which if rig^ht, would do away with 
the difficulty at once. Others, among which are Newton and 
Dr. Pearce, think the prayer was intended to be interlocutory, 
which would also explain it, but I imagine that from Milton's 
known opinion on the subject of femaJe modesty and subjecti'^n, 
it is easy to suppose he never intended to represent Evt; as au 
dibly accompanyins the devotions of her husband. This idea ma' 
be strengthened by i eferring to 1 Cor. xiv. 34. and 1 Tiiu. ii. J i. 



BOOK V, 121 

Firm peace recover *d soon, and wonted calm. 210 

On to their morning's rural work they haste, 

Among sweet dews and fiow'rs ; where any row 

Of fruit trees over-wood^' reach'd too far 

Their pamper'd boughs, and needed hands to check 

Fruitless embraces; or they led the vine 215 

To wed her elm ; she spoiised about him twines 

Her marriageable arms, and with her bring-s 

Her dow'r th' adopted clusters, to adorn 

His barren leaves. Them thus employ'd beheld 

With pity Heav'n's high King, and to him call'd 220 

Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deign'd 

To travel with Tobias, and secured 

His marriage with the sev'ntimes-wedded maid. 

Raphael, said he, thou hear'st what stir on Earth 
Satan from Hell, 'scaped thro' the dai-ksome gulf, 225 
Hath raised in Paradise, and how disturb'd 
This night the human pair, how he designs 
In them at once to ruin all mankind. 
Go, therefore, half this day as friend with friend 
Converse with Adam, in what bow'r or shade 230 
Thou find'st him from the heat of noon retired, 
To respite his day-labour with repast. 
Or with repose ; and such discourse bring on 
As may advise him of his happy state. 
Happiness in his pow'r left free to will, 235 

Left to his own free will, his will though free, 
Yet mutable ; whence warn him to beware 
He svrerv^e not too secure. Tell him withal 
His danger, and from whom ; what enemy. 
Late fall'n himself from Heav'n, is plotting now 240 
The fall of others from like state of bliss. 
By violence ? No, for that shall be withstood ; 
But by deceit and lies. This let him know. 
Lest wilfully transgressing he pretend 
Surprisal, unadmonish'd, unforewam'd. 245 

So spake th' Eternal Father, and fulfill'd 
All justice: nor delay'd the winged Saint 

214. Pampered, from pampre, overgrown with leaves. 

224. See Tasso, Lib. Can. ix. st. 58, wiiich Milton seems 

here lo have had In view. 

245. See also Tasso. Can. ix. en. The description of the de- 

i-rt lidiiig- ang-ei is splei did in both poets, and they may be pro- 

f,t,iH-, coni{iared. 

G 



122 FaRADISE lost. 

After his charge received ; but from among 

Thousand celestial Ardors, where he stood 

Veil'd with his gorg*eous wings, up springing light 250 

Flew through the midst of Heav'n ; th' angelic choirs, 

On each hand parting, to his speed gave way 

Through all th' empyreal road ; till at the gate 

Of Heav'n arrived, the gate self-open'd wide 

On golden hinges turning, as by work 255 

Divine the Sov'reign Architect had framed. 

From hence no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight, 

Star interposed, however small, he sees. 

Not unconform to other shining globes. 

Earth and the gard'n of God, with cedars crown'd 

Above all hills. As when by night the glass 261 

Of Galileo, less assured, observes 

Imagined lands and regions in the moon : 

Or pilot, from amidst the Cyclades 

Delos or Samos first appearing, kens 265 

A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight 

He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky 

Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing 

Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan 

Winnows the buxom air : till within soar 270 

Of tow'ring eagles, to all the fowls he seems 

A Phoenix, gazed by all, as that sole bird, 

When to inshrine his reliques in the Sun's 

Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies. 

At once on th' eastern clifF of Paradise 275 

He lights, and to his proper shape returns, 

A seraph wing'd; six wings he wore, to shade 

249. Ardors, Seraphim, which has the same meaning' in He- 
brew. 

254. So Homer makes the gates of Heaven open to the gods, 
II. V. 749. 

258. The word being must be understood after slur. 

262. Galileo first used the telescope in astronomical observations. 
The Cyclades, of whieh Delos and Samos are two, are islands in 
the Archipelago. 

272. The Phcenix has the epithet sole applied to it, because it i3 
said that but one exists at a time. It is described as very beautiful, 
and living several hundred years, at the end of which time it 
burns itself on a pile prepared of aromatic wood ; from its ashes 
springs its solitary successor, which immediately flies with the 
remains of its predecessor to Thebes, in Egypt, where it reposits 
them in the temple of the Sun. 

876. His proper shape, that in which lie seemed to have been 
before. 



BOOK V. 123 

His lineaments divine ; the pair that clad 

Each shoulder broad, came mantling o'er his breast 

With regal ornament ; the middle pair 280 

Girt lik.e a starry zone his waist, and rotmd 

Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold 

And colours dipt in Heav'n ; the third his feet 

Shadow'd from either heel with feather'd mail. 

Sky-tinctured g-rain. Like Maia's son he stood, 28S 

And shook his plumes, that heav'nly fragrance fill'd 

The circuit wide. Straight knew him all the bands 

Of Angels under watch ; and to his state, 

And to his message high in honour rise ; 

For on some message high they guess'd him bound. 

Their glitt'ring tents he pass'd, andnow is come 291 

Into the blissful field, through groves of myrrh 

And iiow'ring odours, cassia, nard, and balm : 

A wilderness of sweets ; for ^ ature here 

Wanton'd as in her prime, and play'd at will 205 

Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet, 

Wild above rule or art, enormous bliss. 

Him through the spicy forest onward come 

Adam discern'd, as in the door he sat 

Of his cool bow'r, while now the mounted Sun 300 

Shot down direct his fervid rays to warm 

Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam needs : 

And Eve within, due at her hour prepared 

For dinner sav'ry fruits, of taste to please 

True appetite, and not disrelish thirst 305 

Of nect'rous draughts between, from milky stream, 

Berry or grape. To whom thus Adam call'd : 

Haste hither. Eve, and, worth thy sight, behold 
Eastward among those trees, what glorious shape 
Comes this way moving ; seems another morn 310 
Risen on mid-noon ; some great behest from Heav'n 
To us perhaps he brings, and will vouchsafe 
This day to be our guest. But go with speed. 
And what thy stores contain bring forth, and pour 

234. A beautiful comparison — feathers lie over one another like 
ihe plaits of a coat of mail. 

285. Maia's son. Mercury: see Iliad xxiv. 339. iEn.iv. 238. 

299. Gen. xviii. 1 where Abraham is described sitting in thi 
door of the tent. 

310. Nothing can be conceived more splendid than the idea con- 
veyed in the shor* description of Raphael's glory. In Marino'a 
Adonis there if a similar one, C. ii. et. 27. 



124 PARADISE LOST. 

Abundance, fit to honour and receive 31$ 

Our heav'nly stranger : well we may afford 
Our givers their own gifts, and larg-e bestow 
From large bestow'd, where Nature multiplies 
Her fertile growth, and by disburd'ning grov/s 
More fruitful ; which instructs us not to spare. 32C 

To whom thus Eve : Adam, earth's hallow'd mould. 
Of God inspired, small store will serve, where store> 
All seasons, ripe for use hangs on the stalk. 
Save what by frugal storing- firmness gains 
To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes : 325 
But I will haste, and from each bow and brake. 
Each plant and juciest gourd, will pluck such choice 
To entertain our Angel guest, as he 
Beholding shall confess, that here on Earth 
God hath dispensed his bounties as in Heav'n. 330 

So saying, v/ith dispatchful looks in haste 
She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent 
What choice to choose for delicacy best, 
What order, so contrived as not to mix 
Tastes, not well join'd, inelegant, but bring 335 

Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change ; 
Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk 
Whatever Earth, all-bearing mother, yields 
In India East or West, or middle shore 
In Pontus or the Punic coast, or where 340 

Alcinous reign'd, fruit of all kinds, in coat 
Rough or smooth rined, or bearded husk, or shell. 
She gathers, tribute large, and on the board 
Heaps with unsparing hand. For drink, tiie grape 
She crushes, inoffensive must, and meaths 345 • 

From many a berry, and from sweet kernels press'd 
She tempers dulcet creams, nor these to hold 
Wants her fit vessels pure, then strews the ground 
With rose and odours from the shrub unfumed. 

Mean while our primitive great sire, to meet 350 
His god-like guest, walks forth, without more train 



333. Choice to choose : an alliteration not uncommon to Milton 
or the classics. 

340. In Pontus, part of Asia; the Punic coast, Africa; the 
kir.g-dom of Alcinous, Phcbacia, an island in the Ionian Sea, near 
Corfu. 

345. Meaths, sweet drinks. 



BOOK V. 125 

Accompany' 'd than with his own complete 

Perfections : in himself was all his state. 

More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits 

On princes, when their rich retinue long 355 

Of horses led, and grooms besmear'd with gold. 

Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all agape. 

Nearer his presence Adam, though not awed. 

Yet with submiss approach and rev'rence meek. 

As to' a superior nature, bowing low, 3G0 

Thus said : Native of Heav'n, for other place 

None can than Heav'n such glorious shape contain ; 

Since by descending from the thrones above. 

Those happy places thou hast deign'd a while 

To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us 365 

Two only, who yet by sov'reign gift possess 

This spacious ground, in yonder shady bow'r 

To rest, and what the garden choicest bears 

To sit and taste, till this meridian heat 

Be over, and the Sun more cool decline. 370 

Whom thus th' angelic virtue answer'd mild : 
Adam, I therefore came ; nor art thou such 
Created, or such place hast here to dwell. 
As may not oft invite, though Spirits of Heav'n, 
To visit thee. Lead on then where thy bow'r 375 
O'ershades ; for these mid hours, till ev'ning rise, 
I have at will. So to the sylvan lodge 
They came, that like Pomona's arbour smiled 
With flow'rets deck'd and fragrant smells ; but Eve 
Undeck'd save with herself, more lovely fair 380 
Than Wood-Nymph, or the fairest Goddess feign'd 
Of three that in mount Ida naked strove, 
Stood to' entertain her guest from Heav'n. No veil 
She needed, virtue-proof; no thought infirm 
Alter'd her cheek. On whom the Angel, Hail 385 
Bestow'd ; the holy salutation used 
Long after to blest Mary, second Eve. 

Hail Mother of Mankind, whose fruitful womb 
Shall fill the world more num'rous with thy sons, 
Than with these various fruits the trees of God 390 

352. Wilh should be expu-nged according- to Bentley, as it is 
superfluous. 378. Pomona, the goddess of fruit-trees. 

382. In allusion to the judgment of Paris bf tween Venus, Juno, 
aiid Minerva. 

387. Luke i. 2. 8. 



126 PARADISE LOST. 

Have heap'd this table. Raised of grasay turf 
Their table was, and mossy seats had round. 
And on her ample square, Irom side to side. 
All autumn piled, tho' spring- and autumn here 
Danced hand in hand. A while discourse they hold ; 
No fear lest dinner cool ; when thus began 396 

Our author : Heav'nly stranger, please to taste 
These bounties which our Nourisher, from whom 
All perfect good, unmeasured out, descends, 
To us for food, and for delight hath caused 400 

The earth to yield; unsav'ry food perhaps 
To spiritual natures : only this I know. 
That one celestial Father gives to all. 

To whom the Angel : Therefore, what he gives 
(Whose praise be ever sung) to Man in part 405 

Spiritual, may of purest Spirits be found 
No* ingrateful food : and food alike those pure 
Intelligential substances require. 
As doth your rational ; and both contain 
Within them ev'ry lower faculty 410 

Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste. 
Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate. 
And corporeal to incorporeal turn. 
For know, whatever was created, needs 
To be sustain'd and fed : pf elements 415 

The grosser feeds the purer; earth the sea. 
Earth and the sea feed air ; the air those fires 
Ethereal, and as lowest first the moon ; 
Whence in her visage round those spots, unpurged 
Vapours not yet into lier substance turn'd. 42(S 

Nor doth the moon no nourishment exhale 
From her moist continent to higher orbs. 
The Sun, that light imparts to all, receives 
Prom all his alimental recompense 
In humid exhalations, and at even 425 

Sups with the ocean. Though in Heav'n the trees 
Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines 
Yield nectar ; though from off the boughs each morn 
We brush mellifluous dews, and find the ground 
Cover'd with pearly grain, yet God hath here 4;JC 

421. A Latinism. 
428. See Pe. ov. 40. Exodus xvi. )4. Matt. xxiv. 29. and Rev. 
vxii. 2* 



BOOK Y. 127 

Vary'd his bounty so with new delights, 
As may compare with Heaven ; and to taste 
Think not I shall he nice. So down they sat, 
And to their viands fell ; nor seemingly 
The Ang'el, nor in mist, the common gloss 435 

Of Theologians ; but with keen d/spatch 
Of real hunger and concoctive heat 
To transubstantiate : what redounds, transpires 
Through Spirits with ease : nor wonder, if by fire 
Of sooty coal th' empyric alchemist 440 

Can turn, or holds it possible to turn, 
Metals of drossiest ore to perfect gold. 
As from the mine. Mean while at table Eve 
Minister'd naked, and their flowing cups 
With pleasant liquors crown'd. O innocence 445 
Deserving Paradise ! if ever, then. 
Then had the sons of God excuse to' have been 
Enamour'd at thy sight ; but in those hearts 
*Love unlibidinous rcign'd, nor jealousy 
Was understood, the injured lover's Hell. 450 

Thus, when with meats and drinks they had sufficed, 
Not burden'd nature, sudden mind arose 
In Adam, not to let th' occasion pass 
Giv'n him by this great conference, to know 
Of things above his world, and of their being 455 
Who dwell in Heav'n, whose excellence he saw 
Transcend his own so far, whose radiant forms 
Divine effulgence, whose high pow'r so far 
Exceeded human ; and his wary speech 
Thus to th* empyreal minister he framed : 46© 

Inhabitant with God, now know I well 
Thy favour in this honour done to Man, 
Under whose lowly roof thou hast vouchsafed 
To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste. 
Food not of Angels, yet accepted so, 46S 

As that more willingly thou couldst not seem 

435. It was the opinion of most theologians that the angels did 
not eat, their opinion beinii- founded on some metaphysical no- 
tions, and on a passage in Tobit iii. 19. But Milton seems to be 
justified by the canonical Scripture. See Gen. xviii. and xix. 

438 This is a fine distinction between the processes of diges- 
tion »n men and ungels. 

440. Empyric, making many experiments. 

445. To crown the cup, is a classical exrressioa. 

447. Gen. vi. 2. 



128 PARADISE LOST. 

At Heav'n's high feasts to' have fed : yet what com- 
To whom the winged Hierarch reply 'd : [paret 
O Adam, one Almighty is, from whom 
All things proceed, and up to him return, 470 

If not depraved from good, created all 
Such to perfection, one first matter all, 
Endued with various forms, various degrees 
Of substance, and in things that life, of life : 
But more refined, more spirituous, and pure, 475 

As nearer to him placed, or nearer tending 
Each in their sev'ral active spheres assign'd, 
Till body up to spirit work, in bounds 
Proportion'd to each kind. So from the root 
Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves 
More aery, last the bright consummate fiow'r 481 
Spirits odoro as breathes: flow'rs and their fruit, 
Man's nourishment, by gradual scale sublimed. 
To vital spirits aspire, to animal. 
To intellectual : give both life and sense, 485 

Fancy and understanding ; whence the soul 
Reason receives, and reason is her being 
Discursive or intuitive : discourse 
Is oftest yours ; the latter most is ours, 
DifF'ring but in degi-ee ; of kind the same. 400 

Wonder not then, what God for you saw good, 
If 1 refuse not, but convert, as you, 
To proper substance: time may come, when Men 
With Angels may participate, and find 
No incoiiveiiient diet, nor too light fare ; 495 

And from these corp'ral nutriments, perhaps 
Your bodies may at last turn all to spirit. 
Improved by tract of time, and wing'd ascend 
Ethereal, as we, or may at choice 
Here or in heav'nly Paradises dwell ; 500 

If ye be found obedient, and retain 
Unalterably firm his love entire, 
Whose progeny you are. Mean while enjoy 
Your fill what happiness this happy state 

478. The reader may very profitably consult a volume of ser- 
mons lately published by Dr. A. Clarke, in which he will find 
some excellent observations on Milton's materialism. I am in- 
clined, however, to believe that the ymet meant to convey no 
other idea than that derived from 1 Cor. w. 44. 
503. Acts xvii. -28. 



BOOK V. 129 

Can comprehend, incapable of more. 505 

To whom the patriarch of mankind reply'd : 
O favourable Spirit, propitious guest, 
Well hfist thou taught the way that might direct 
Our knowledge, and the scale of nature set 
From centre to circumference, whereon 510 

In contemplation of created things, 
By steps we may ascend to God. But say, 
What meant that caution join'd. If ye be found 
Obedient 1 Can we want obedience then 
To him, or possibly his love desert, 515 

Who form'd us from the dust, and placed us here 
Full to the utmost measure of what bliss 
Human desire can seek or apprehend 1 

To whom the Angel : Son of Heav'n and Earth, 
Attend. That thou art happy, owe to God ; 520 

That thou continuest such, owe to thyself; 
That is, to thy obedience : therein stand. 
This was that caution giv'n thee ; be advised. 
God made thee perfect, not immutable ; 
And good he made thee ; but to persevere 525 

He left it in thy pow'r ; ordain'd thy will 
By nature free, not over-ruled by fate 
Inextricable, or strict necessity. 
Our voluntary service he requires. 
Not our necessitated : such with him 530 

Finds no acceptance, nor can find; for how 
Can hearts, not free, be try'd whether they se "ve 
Willing or no, who will but what they must 
By destiny, and can no other choose ? 
Myself and all th' angelic host, that stand 535 

In sight of God enthroned, our happy state 
Hold, as you yours, while our obedience holds : 
On other surety none. Freely we serve. 
Because we freely love, as in our will 
To love or not : in this we stand or fall : 540 

And some are fall'n, to disobedience fall'n, 

512. Every part of the vast system of the universe, is not only 
coftnected with the rest by a kind of natural necessity, but the 
connexion is apparent to the contemplative eye of reason, and 
hence having become acquainted with the lowest circumstance 
in it, the mind is carried gradually ar^d easily on till it looks 
down from the highest point on the whole grand creation of the 
Almighty God. 

G 2 



130 PARADISE LOST. 

And so from Heav'n to deepest Hell. O fallj 
From what high state of t>liss into what woe ! 

To whom our great progenitor : Thy words 
Attentive, and with more delighted ear, 545 

Divine Instructor, I have heai'd, than when 
Cherubic songs by night from neighb'ring hills 
Aereal music send : nor knew I not 
To he both will and deed created free ; 
Yet that we never shall forget to love 550 

Our Maker, and obey him whose command 
Single is yet so just, my constant thoughts 
Assured me', and still assure : tho' what thou tell'st 
Hath pass'd in Heav'n, some doubt within me move, 
}5ut more desire to hear, if thou consent, 555 

The full relation, which must needs be strange, 
Worthy of sacred silence to be heai'd ; 
And we have yet large day ; for scarce the Sun 
Hath finish'd half his journey', and scarce begins 
His other half in the great zone of Heav'n. 560 

Thus Adam made request : and Raphael, 
After short pause, assenting, thus began : 

High matter thou enjoin'st me', prime of men, 
Sad task and hard ; for how shall I relate 
To human sense th' invisible exploits 565 

Of warring Spirits 1 How without remorse 
The ruin of so many, glorious once 
And perfect while they stood ? How last unfold 
The secrets of another world, pei-haps 
Not lawful to reveal? yet for thy pood 570 

This is dispensed ; and what surmoimts the reach 
Of human sense, I shall delineate so. 
By lik'ning spiritual to corp'ral forms. 
As may express them best : though what if Earth 
Be but the shadow' of Heav'n, and things therein 575 
Each to' other like, more than on earth is thought? 

As yet this world was not, and Chaos wild 
Reign'd where these Heav'ns now roll, where Earth 

now rests 
Upon her centre poised ; when on a day 
'For time, though in eternity, apply 'd 580 

To motion, measures all things durable 

551. In allusion to the command not to eat of the tree of know- 
[edge. 



BOOK V 131 

By present, past, and futury; on such day 

As Heav'n's great year brings forth, th' empyreal host 

Of angels by imperial summons call'd. 

Innumerable before th' Almig-hty's throne 585 

Forthwith from all the ends of Heav'n appear'd 

Under their Hierarchs in order brig:ht : 

Ten thousand thousand ensigns high advanced. 

Standards and g-onfalons 'twixt van and rear 

Stream in the air, and for distinction serve 590 

Of hierarchies, of orders, and degrees ; 

Or in their glitt'ring tissues bear emblazed 

Holy memorials, acts of zeal and love 

Recorded eminent. Thus when in orbs 

Of circuit inexpressible they stood, 595 

Orb within orb, the Father infinite. 

By whom in bliss imbosom'd sat the Son, 

Amidst as from a flaming mount, whose top 

Brightness had made invisible, thus spake : 

Hear, all ye Angels, progeny of light, 600 

Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Pow'rs, 
Hear my decree, which unrevoked shall stand : 
This day I have beg-ot whom I declare 
My only Son ; and on this holy hill 
Him have anointed, whom ye now b6hold 605 

At my right hand ; your Head I him appoint ; 
And by myself have sworn, to him shall bow 
All kuees in Heav'n, and shall confess him Lord : 
Under his great vicegerent reign abide 
United as one individual soul, 610 

For ever happy. Him who disobeys. 
Me disobeys, breaks union, and that day 
Cast out from God, and blessed vision, falls 
Into' utter darkness, deep ingulph'd, his place 
Ordain'd without redemption, without end. 615 

So spake th' Omnipotent : and with his words 
All seem'd well pleased ; all seem'd,but were not aU. 
That day, as other solemn days, they spent 

583. Milton is believed to have had Plato's idea in this expre*?- 
sion, the latter making the great year to be the revolution of aJ\ 
the spheres. See also Job i. 6. 1 Kinsrs xxii. 19. 

.SS9. A gonfalon, a streamer or banner. 

598. Exodus xix. 

600. This, as the former speech, is moj^tlv derived from S( rS'i^-^ 
ture. See W. ii. 6,7. Gen. xxii. 16. Phil. ii. 10,11. 



132 PARADISE LOST. 

In song and dance about the sacred hill ; 

Mystical dance, which yonder starry sphere 620 

Of planets and of iix'd, in all her wheels 

Resembles nearest, mazes intricate, 

Eccentric, intervolved, yet regular 

Then most, when most irregular they seem ; 

And in their motions harmony divine 625 

So smooths her charming- tones, that God's own ear 

Listens delighted. Ev'ning now approach'd 

(For we have also' our ev'ning* and our morn. 

We ours for change delectable, not need) 

Forthwith from dance to sweet repast they turn 630 

Desirous; all in circles as they stood. 

Tables are set, and on a sudden piled 

With angels' food, and rubied nectar flows 

In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold, 

Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of Heav'n. 035 

On flow'rs reposed, and v/ith fresh flow'rets crown'd, 

They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet 

Quaff immortality and joy, secure 

Of surfeit, where full measure only bounds 

Excess, before th' All-boimteous King, who show'r'd 

With copious hand, rejoicing in their joy. 641 

Now when ambrosial night with clouds exhaled 

From that high mount of God , whence light and shade 

Spring both, the face of brightest Heav'n had chang'd 

To grateful twilight (for night comes not there 645 

In darker veil) and roseate dews disposed 

All but th' unsleeping eyes of God to rest : 

Wide over all the plain, and wider fdv 

Than all this globous earth in plain outspread 

(Such are the courts of God) th' angelic throng, 6.50 

Dispersed in bands and files, their camp extend 

By living streams among the trees of life, 

Pavilions numberless, and sudden rear'd. 

Celestial tabernacles, where they slept 

Fann'd with cool winds ; save those who in their course 

Melodious hymns about the sov'reign throne 656 

625. It was the opinion of the Pythagorean philosophers, that a 
most exquisite music was produced by the motion of the spheres, 
come allusion to it is made in Job xxxviii. 37. 

633. Rnhied nectar ; bo-rrowed from Homer. 

637. And with refection sweet, in the first edition. 

642, Ambrosial, an Homeric epithet. 647. I's. cxxi. 4. 



BOOK V. 1S3 

Alternate all nig-ht long ; but not so waked 
Satan ; so call him now, liis foinier name 
is heard no more in Heav'n ; he of the first, 
If not the first Arch-Ang-el, great in pow'r, 660 

In favour, and pre-eminence, yet fraug-ht 
With envy 'gainst the Son of God, that day 
Honour'd by his great Father, and proclaim'd 
Messiah King anointed, could not bear 
'I'hrough pride that sight, and thought himself im- 

pair'd. 6Q^ 

Deep malice thence conceiving, and disdain. 
Soon as nudnight brought on the dusky hour 
Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolved 
With all his legions to dislodge, and leave 
Unworshipp'd, unobey'd the throne supreme 670 

Contemptuous, and his next subordinate 
Awak'ning, thus to him in secret spake : [close 

Sleep'st thou, companion dear? What sleep can 
Thy eye-lids I and remember'st what decree 
Of yesterday, so late hath pass'd the lips 675 

Of Heav'n's Almighty! Thou to me thy thoughts 
Wast wont, I mine to thee was wont to' impart ; 
Both waking we were one ; how then can now 
Thy sleep dissent ? New laws thou seest imposed ; 
New laws from him who reigns, new minds may raise 
In us who serve, new counsels to debate 681 

What doubtful may ensue : more in this place 
To utter is not safe. Assemble thou 
or all those myriads which we lead the chief; 
Tell them that by command, ere yet dim night 685 
Her shadowy cloud withdraws, I am to haste. 
And all who under me their banners wave, 
Homeward with flying march where we possess 
rhe quarters of the north ; there to prepare 
Fit entertainment to receive our King 69© 

The great Messiah, and Ms new commands; 
Who speedily through all the hierarchies 
Intends to pass triumphant, and give laws. 

So spake the false Arch-Angel, and infused 

657. Alternate is a verb. 

671. Beelzebub is liere meant, who is always represented 

next in rank to Satan. 

6S9. Sunnazarius, de partu Virg-inis, iii. 40. Isuiah xiv, 12, 13* 

J'.^r. i. 14. vi. 1. 



134 PARADISE LOST. 

Bad influence into th' unwary breast 693 

Of his associate : he together calls. 

Or sev'ral one by one, the regent pow'rs, 

Under him regent ; tells, as he was taught. 

That the Most High commanding, now ere night, 

Now ere dim night had disencumber'd Heav'n, 700 

The great hierarchal standard was to move ; 

Tells the suggested cause, and casts between. 

Ambiguous words and jealousies, to sound 

Or taint integrity : but all obey'd 

The wonted signal and superior voice 705 

Of their great potentate ; for great indeed 

His name, and high was his degree in Heav'n ! 

His cpunt'nance, as the morning star that guides 

The starry flock, allured them, and with lies 

Drew after him the thirdTpart of Heav'n's host. 710 

Mean while th' Eternal Eye, whose sight discerns 

Abstrusest thoughts, from forth his holy mount. 

And from within the golden lamps that burn 

Nightly before him, saw without their light 

Rebellion rising, saw in whom, how spread 715 

Among the suns of morn, what multitudes 

Were banded to oppose his high decree ; 

And smiling to his only Son, thus said: 

Son, thou in whom my glory I behold 
In full resplendence. Heir of all my might, 720 

Nearly it now concerns us to be sure 
Of our omnipotence, and with what arms 
We mean to hold what anciently we claim 
Of Deity or empire ; such a foe 

Is rising, who intends to' erect his throne 725 

Equal to ours, throughout the spacious north ; 
Nor so content, hath in his thought to try 
In battle what our pow'r is, or our right. 
Let us advise, and to this hazard draw 
With speed what force is left, and all employ 730 
In our defence, lest unawares we lose 
This our high place, our sanctuary, our hill. 

To whom the Son, with calm aspect and clear, 

710. Rev. xii. 3, 4. 
711. Th* Eternal Eye ; this expression must be taken as a me« 
tonomy for God, to ^ive the proper sense to line 718. 

713. Rev. iv. 5. 718. See Ps. ii. 1, &c. 

719. Heb. i. 2 3. 



BOOK V. 135 

Lightning' divine, ineffable, serene, 

Made answer : Mighty Father, thou thy foes 735 

Justly hast in derision, and secure 

Laugh'st at their vain designs and tumults vain, 

Matter to me of glory, whom their hate 

Illustrates, when they see all regal pow'r 

Giv'n nie to quell their pride, and in event 740 

Know whether I be dextrous to subdue 

Thy rebels, or he found the worst in Heav'n. 

So spake the >Son ; but Satan with his pow'rs 
Far was advanced on winged speed, an host 
Innumerable as the stars of night, 745 

Qi' stars of morning, dew-drops, which the Sun 
Impearls on ev'ry leaf and ev'ry flow'r. 
Regions they pass'd, tEe mighty regencies 
Of Seraphim, and Potentates, and Thrones, 
In their triple degrees ; regions to Avhich 750 

All thy dominion, Adam, is no more 
Than what this garden is to all the earth. 
And all the sea, from one entire globose 
Stretch'd into longitude ; which having pass'd, 
At length into the limits of the north 755 

They came, and Satan to his royal seat 
High on a hill, far blazing, as a mount 
Raised on a mount, with pyramids and tow'rs 
From diamond quarries hewn, and rocks of gold ; 
The palace of great Lucifer (so call 760 

That structure in the dialect of men 
Interpreted) which not long after, he 
Affecting all equality with God, 
In imitation of that mount whereon 
Messiah was declared in sight of Heav'n, 705 

The Mountain of the Congregation call'd ; 
For thither he assembled all his train. 
Pretending so commanded to consult 
About the great reception of their King, 
Thither to come, and with calumnious aii: 770 

Of counterfeited truth, thus held their ears : 

Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, 
Pow'rs, 

734. Lightning is taken for a substantive by Newtoi*, but it is 
evidently an adjective, or we should have 'ineffable ji^^-.tning,' an 
exprresion Milton would.uever have made use of. 



136 PARADISE LOST. 

If these magnific titles yet remain 

Not merely titular, since by decree 

Another now hath to himself ingross'd 775 

All pow'r, and us eclipsed under the name 

Of King Anointed, for whom all this haste 

Of midnight march, and hurried meeting here, 

This only to consult, how we may best, 

With what may be devised of honours new, 780 

Receive him coming- to receive from us 

Knee-tribute yet unpaid, prostration vile, 

Too much to one, but double how endured. 

To one and to his image now proclaim'd ? 

But what if better counsels mig'ht erect 785 

Our minds, and teach us to cast off this yoke 1 

Will ye submit your necks, and choose to bend 

The supple knee 1 Ye will not, if I trust 

To know ye right ; or if ye know yourselves 

Natives and sous of Heav'n possess'd before 790 

By none, and if not equal all, yet free. 

Equally free ; for orders and degrees 

Jar not with liberty, but well consist. 

Who can in reason then or right assume 

Monarchy over such as live by right 795 

Jriis equals, if in pow'r and splendour less. 

In freedom equal 1 or can introduce 

Law and edict on us, who without law 

Err not ? much less for this to be our Lord, 

And look for adoration to th' abuse 800 

Of those imperial titles which assert 

Our being ordain'dto govern, not to serve. 

Thus far his bold discourse without control 
Had audience, when among the Seraphim 
Abdiel, than whom none with more zeal adored 805 
The Deity', and divine commands obey'd. 
Stood up, and in a flame of zeal severe. 
The current of his fury thus opposed : 

O argument, blasphemous, false, and proud I 
Words which no ear ever to hear in Heav'n 810 

Expected, least of all from thee, Ingrate, 
Iivplace thyself so high above thy peers. 

795. There is a difficulty in the construction of this passage; bwt 
it is explained by takino: * for this to be our Lord,' in connexion 
frith *can introduce law and edict,' 



BOOK V. U'7 

Canst thoti with impious obloquy condemn 

The just decree of God, pronounced and sworn, 

That to his only Son, by right endued 815 

With regal sceptre, ev'ry soul in Heav'n 

Shall bend the knee, and in that honour due 

Confess him rightful King 1 Unjust, thou say'st, 

Fiatly unjust, to bind with laws the free, 

And equal over equals to let reign, 820 

One over all with unsucceeded pow'r. 

Shalt thou give law to God? Shalt thou dispute 

With him the points of liberty, who made 

Thee what thou art, and form'd the pow'rs of Heav'n 

Such as he pleased, and circumscribed their being? 

Yet, by experience taught, we know how good, 826 

A.nd of our good and of our dignity 

How provident he is, how far from thought 

To make us less, bent rather to exalt 

Our happy state under one head more near 830 

United. But to grant it thee unjust. 

That equal over equals monarch reign: 

Thyself, though great and glorious, dost thou count. 

Or all angelic nature join'd in one. 

Equal to him begotten Son? by whom 835 

As by his Word the mighty Father made 

All things, ev'n thee ; and all the Spirits of Heav'n 

By him created in their brigh* degrees, 

Crown'd them with glory', and to their glory named 

Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Pow'rs, 

Essential Pow'rs ; nor by his reign obscured, 841 

But more illustrious made ; since he the Head 

One of our number thus reduced becomes ; 

His laws our laws ; all honour to him done 

Returns our own. Cease then this impious rage. 

And tempt not these ; but hasten to appease 846 

Th' incensed Father and th' incensed Son, 

While pardon may be found, in time besought. 

So spake the fervent Angel ; but his zeal 
"None seconded, as out of season judged, 850 

Or singular and rash, v/hereat rejoiced 
Th' Apostate, and more haughty thus replied : 
That we were form'd then, say'st thou '? and the work 

835. Col, i. 16, 17. 



138 PARADISE LOST. 

Of secondary hands, by task, transferr'd 854 

From Father to his Son ? Stiang-e point, and new! 
Doctrine which we would know whence learn'd : who 
When this creation was ? Reuiember'st thou [saw 
Thy making-, while the Maker gave thee being ; 
We know no time when we were not as now ; 
Know none before us, self-begot, self-raised 8G0 

By our own quick'ning pow'r, when fatal course 
Had circled his full orb, the birth mature 
Of this our native Heav'n, ethereal sons. 
Our puissance is our own ; our own righi baad 
Shall teach us highest deeds, by proof to try 865 
Who is our equal : then thou shalt behold 
Whether by supplication we intend 
Address, and to begirt th' almighty throne 
Beseeching or besieging. This report, 
These tidings, carry to th' Anointed King*; 870 

And fly, ere evil intercept thy flight. 

Ha said, and as the sound of waters deep 
Hoarse murmur echo'd to his words applause 
Through the infinite host ; nor less for that 
The flaming Seraph feaiiess, though alone 875 

Encompass'd round with foes, thus an^wer'd bold: 

O alienate from God, O Spirit accursed, 
Forsaken of all good ! I see thy fall 
Determined, and thy hapless crew involved 
In this perfidious fraud, contagion spread 880 

Both of thy crime and punishment : henceforth 
No more be troubled how to quit the yoke 
Of God's Messiah : those indulgent laws 
Will not be now vouchsafed ; other decrees 
Against thee are gone forth without recall ; 885 

That golden sceptre, which thou didst reject, 
Is now an iron rod, to braise and break 
Thy disobedience. Weil thou didst advise. 
Yet not for thy advice or threats I fly 
These wicked tents devoted, lest the wrath S93 

Impendent, raging into sudden flame. 
Distinguish not ; for soon expect to feel 
His thunder on thy head, devouring fire ; 
Then who created thee lamenting learn, 

672. Rev. xix. 6. 
687. Pa. ii, 9. 





Mustering of Hie Waxiior Angels 



BOOK VI. 139 

When who can uncreate thee thou shalt know. 895 

So spake the Seraph Abdiel, faithful found 
Among the faithless, faithful only he ; 
Among- innumerable false, unmoved, 
Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified. 
His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal ; 900 

Nor number, nor example, with him wrought 
To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind, 
Though single. From amidst them forth he pass'd. 
Long way through hostile scorn, which he sustain'd 
Superior, nor of violence fear'd aught ; 905 

And with retorted scorn his back he tuni'd 
On those proud tow'rs to swift destruction doom'd. 



BOOK VI. 
THE ARGUMENT. 

Raphael continues to relate how Michael and Gabriel were sent 
forth to battle ag-ainst Satan and his Angels. The first fight de- 
scribed : Satan and his Powers retire under night: He calls a 
council, invents devilish engines, which in the second day's fight 
put Michael and his Angels to some disorder ; but they at length 
pulling up mountains, overwhelmed both the force and machines 
of Satan : Yet the tumult not so ending, God on the third day 
sends Messiah his Son, for whom he had reserved the glory of 
that victory : He, in the power of his Father, coming to the place, 
and causing his legions to stand still on either side, with his cha- 
riot and thunder driving into the midst of his enemies, pursues 
them, unable to resist, towards the wall of Heaven ; which open- 
ing, they leap down with horror and confusion into the place of 
punishment prepared for them in the deep : Messiah returns with 
triumph to his Father. 

All. night the dreadless Angel, unpursued, 
JC^rough Heav'n's wide champain held his w^^ay/till 
[ Waked by the circling hours, with rosy hand [morn, 
\Unbarr'd the gates of light. _^here is a cave 
WT^Km the mount of God, fast by his throne, 5 

Where light and darkness in perpetual round 
Lodge and dislodge by turns, which makes through 
Grateful vicissitude, like day and night ; [Heav'n 
Lig'ht issues forth, and at the other door 



896. The character of Abdiel thus introduced has a very beautiful 
efifect. 

2. Copied from Homer, II. v. 74D. 

6. A passasre of Hesiod is pointed out by Warburton as the or^- 
ginai of tins'.— Theog. 748. 



140 PARADISE LOST. 

Obsequious darkness enters, till her hour IC 

To veil the Heav'n, thoug-h darkness there might well 
Seem twilight here : and now went forth the morn 
Such as in highest Heav'n, array 'd in gold 
Empjrreal ; from before her vanish'd night, 
Shot through with orient beams; when all the plain. 
Cover 'd with thick embattled squadrons bright, 10 
Chariots and flaming arms, and fiery steeds. 
Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view. 
War he perceived, war in procinct, and found 
Already known what he for news had thought 20 
To have reported. Gladly then he mix'd 
Among those friendly Pow'rs, who him received 
With joy and acclamations loud, that one, 
That of so many myriads fall'n, yet one 
Return'd not lost. On to the sacred hill 25 

They led him, high applauded, and present 
Before the seat supreme ; from whence a voice 
From midst a golden cloud thus mild was heard : 

Servant of God, well done .' well hast thou fought 
The better fight, who singly hast maintain'd 3a 

Against revolted multitudes the cause 
Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms ; 
And for the testimony' of truth hast borne 
Universal reproach (far worse to bear 
Than violence) ; for this was all thy care 35 

To stand approved in sight of God, though worlds 
Judged thee perverse : the easier conquest now 
Remains thee, aided by this host of friends, 
Back on thy foes more glorious to return 
Than scorn 'd thou didst depart, and to subdue 40 
By force, who reason for their law refuse. 
Right reason for their law, and for their king 
Messiah, who by right of merit reigns. 
Go Michael, of celestial armies prince, 
And thou in military prowess next 4-5 

Gabriel, lead forth to battle these my sons 
Invincible, lead forth my armed Saints, 
By thousands and by millions ranged for fight, 

18. See Maccabees vi. 39. 
19. War in procinct, in allusion to the soldiers gfirding them 
reives up before the battle. 

29. Abdiel in Hebrew means servant of God. 
Rev. xii, 7, 8, 



BOOK VI. 141 

Equal in number to that Godless creM' 

"Rebellious ; them with fire and hostile arms 50 

Fearless assault, and to the brow of Heav'u 

Pursuing, drive them out from God and bliss 

Into their place of punishment, the gulf 

Of Tartarus, which ready opens wide 

His fiery Chaos to receive their fall. 5c 

So spake the sov'reign voice, and clouds began 
To darken all the hill, and smoke to roll 
In dusky wreaths, reluctant flames, the sign 
Of wrath awaked ; nor with less dread the loud 
Ethereal trumpet from on high 'gan blow : 60 

At which command the powers militant 
That stood for Heav'n, in mighty quadrate join'd 
Of union irresistible, moved on 
In silence their bright legions, to the sound 
Of instrumental harmony, that breath'd 65 

Heroic ardour to advent'rous deeds 
Under their God-like leaders, in the cause 
Of God and his Messiah. On they move 
Indissolubly firm : nor obvious hill. 
Nor strait'ning vale, nor wood, nor stream divides 70 
Their perfect ranks ; for high above the ground 
Their march was, and the passive air upbore 
Tlieir nimble tread. As when the total kind 
Of birds, in orderly array on wing. 
Came summon'd over Eden, to receive 75 

Their names of thee ; so over many a tract 
Of Heav'n they march'd, and many a province wide 
Tenfold the length of this terrene. At last, 
Far in th' horizon to the north appear'd 
From skirt to skirt a fiery region, stretch'd 80 

In battailous aspect, and nearer view 
Bristled with upright beams innumerable 
Of rigid spears, and helmets throng'd, and shields 
Various, with boastful argument portray'd, 
The banded Pow'rs of Satan hasting on 85 

With furious expedition ; for they ween*d 
That self-same day by fight, or by surprise. 
To win the mount of God, and on his throne 

73. So Homer describes the motion of his gods. 
84. Boastful argument, in allnsion to tlie designs painted on 
the shields "of knights. 



142 PARADISE LOST. 

To set the en-vior of his state, the proud 
Aspirer, but their thoughts proved fond and vain 90 
In the raid-way : though strange to us it seem'd 
At first, that Angel should with Angel war, 
And in fierce hosting meet, who wont to meet 
So oft in festivals of joy and love 
Unanimous, as sons of one great sire 95 

Hymning th' Etei'nal Father; but the shout 
Of battle now began, and rushing sound 
Of onset ended soon each milder thought. 
High in the midst exalted as a God, 
Th' Apostate in his sun-bright chariot sat, 100 

Idol of majesty divine, inclosed 
With flaming Cherubim and golden shields; 
Then lighted from his gorgeous throne, for now 
Twixt host and host but narrow space was left 
(A dreadful interval), and front to front 105 

Presented, stood in terrible array. 
Of hideous length. Before the cloudy van. 
On the rough edge of battle ere it join'd, 
Satan, with vast and haughty strides advanced, 
Came tow'ring-, arm'd in adamant and gold: 110 

Abdiel that sight endured not, where he stood 
Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds. 
And thus his own undaunted heart explores ; 

O Heav'n ! that such resemblance of the High'st 
Should yet remain, where faith and realty 115 

Remain not ! wherefore should not strength and might 
There fail where virtue fails, or weakest prove 
Where boldest, though to sight unconquerable ? 
His puissance, trusting in th' Almighty's aid, 
I mean to try, whose reason I have try'd 120 

Unsound and false ; nor is it aught but just 
That he who in debate of truth hath won 
Should win in arms, in both disputes alike 
Victor; though brutish that contest and foul, 
When reason hath to deal with force, yet so 123 

Most reason is that reason overcome. 

So pondering', and from his armed peers 
Forth stepping opposite, half- way he met 

93. Hosting, a word not first used by Milton, as supposed. 
115. Realty, not sureness but loyalty, derived from the ItsIiftA 
word reale, loyal. 



BOOK VI. 143 

His daring foe, at this prevention more 

Incensed ; and thus securely him defy'd : 130 

Proud, art thou met ? Thy hope was to have reach 'd 
The height of thy aspiring unopposed, 
The throne of God unguarded, and his side 
Abandon'd at the terror of thy pow'r 
Or potent tongue : fool ! not to think hovs^ vain 135 
Against th Omnipotent to rise in arms I 
Who out of smallest things could without end 
Have raised incessant armies to defeat 
Thy folly ! or with solitary hand 
Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow, 140 

Unaided, could have finish'd thee, and whelm'd 
Thy legions under darkness ! but thou seest 
All are not of thy train: there be who faith 
Prefer, and piety to God, though then 
To thee not visible, when I alone 145 

Seem'd in thy world erroneous to dissent 
From all ; my sect thou seest ; now learn, too late, 
How few sometimes may know, when thousands err. 

Whom the grand foe, with scornful eye askance. 
Thus answer'd: Til for thee, but in wish'd hour 150 
Of my revenge, first sought for thou return'st 
From flight, seditious Angel, to receive 
Thy merited reward, the first assay 
Of this right hand provoked, since first that tongue, 
Inspired with contradiction, durst oppose 155 

A third part of the Gods, in synod met 
Their deities to assert, who while they feel 
Vigour divine within them, can allcw 
Omnipotence to none. But well thou com'st 
Before thy fellows, ambitious to win 160 

From me some plume, that thy success may shew 
Destruction to the rest. This pause between 
(Unanswer'd lest thou boast) to let thee know ; 
At first I thought that Liberty and Heav'n 
To heav'nly souls had been all one ; but now 165 
I see that most through sloth had rather serve, 
Minist'ring Spirits, train'd up in feast and song : 

147. Sect, not in allusion, as is supposed, to any religious of 
political party, bu« according to its primitive sense, a division, 
from scco. 

161. Success, fortune, good or bad, is signified by this word. 
i67. Heb. i. 14. 



144 PARADISE LOST. 

Such hast thou arm'd, the minstrelsy of Heav'n, 

Servility with freedom to contend, 

As both their deeds compared this day shall prove. 

To whom in brief thua Abdiel stern reply 'd ? 171 
Apostate, still thou err'st, nor end v/iit find 
Of erring, from the path of truth remote. 
Unjustly thou deprav'st it with the name 
Of Servitude to serve whom God ordains, 175 

Or Nature; God and Nature hid the same, 
When he who rules is worthiest, and excels 
Them whom he governs. This is servitude. 
To serve th' unwise, or him who hath rebell'd 
Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee, ISO 
Thyself not free, but to thyself enthrall'd ; 
Yet lewdly dar'st our minist'ring- upbraid. 
Reign thou in Hell, thy kingdom ; let me serve 
In Heav'n God ever blest, and his divine 
Behests obey, worthiest to be obey'd; 185 

Yet chains in Hell, not realms expect: meanwhile 
From me return'd, as erst thou saidst, from flight, 
This greeting on thy impious crest receive. 
So say'ng, a noble stroke he lifted high, 
Which hung not, but so swift with tempest tell 190 
On the proud crest of Satan, that no sight. 
Nor motion of swift thought, less could his shield 
Such ruin intercept. Ten paces huge 
He back recoil'd ; the tenth on bended knee 
His massy spear upstay'd, as if on earth 195 

Winds under grouad, or waters forcing way 
Sidelong, had push'd a mountain from his seat, 
Half sunk with all his pines. Amazement seized 
The rebel Thrones, but greater rage, to see 
Thus foil'd their mightiest; ours joy fill'd and shout, 
Presage of victory and fierce desire 201 

Of battle ; whereat Michael bid sound 
Th' Arch-Angel trumpet : through the vast of Heav'n 
It sounded, and the faithful armies rung 
Hosannah to the Highest : nor stood at gaze 205 

The adverse legions, nor less hideous join'd 
The horrid shock. Now storming fury rose. 
And clamour such as heard in Heav'n till now 

183. Said 111 anticipation. 



BOOK VI. 145 

Was never; arms on armour clashing bray'd 

Horrible discord, and the madding wheels 210 

Of brazen chariots raged ; dire was the noise 

Of conflict ; over head the dismal hiss 

Of fiery darts in flaming- volleys flew. 

And flying- vaulted either host with lire. 

So under fiery cope together rush'd 215 

Both battles main, with ruinous assault 

And inextinguishable rage. All Heav'n 

Resounded ; and had Earth been then, all Earth 

Had to her centre shook. What wonder? when 

Millions of fierce encount'ring Angels fought 220 

On either side, the least of whom could wield 

These elements, and arm him with the force 

Of all their regions : how much more of pow'r 

Army 'gainst aroay numberless, to raise 

Dreadful combustion Avarring, and disturb, 225 

Though not destroy, their happy native seat; 

Had not th' Eternal King omnipotent 

From his strong hold of Heav'n high over-ruled 

And limited their might ; though number'd such 

As each divided legion might have seem'd 230 

A num'rous host, in strength, each armed hand 

A legion, led in fight yet leader seem'd 

Each warrior single as in ^^bief, expert 

When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway 

Of battle, open when, and when to close 235 

The ridges of grim war: no thought of flight, 

None of retreat, no unbecoming deed 

That argued fear : each on himself rely'd. 

As only in his arm the moment lay 

Of victory : deeds of eternal fame 240 

Were done, but infinite ; for wide was spread 

That war, and various; sometimes on firm ground 

A standing fight, then soaring on main wing. 

Tormented all the air: all air seem'd then 

Conflicting fire. Long time in even scale 245 

The battle hung; till Satan, who that day 

Prodigious pow'r had shone, and met in arms 

No equal, ranging- through the dire attack 

Of fighting Seraphim confused, at length 249 

235. Fields ploughed in ridges form the subject nf this fin« 
metaphor. 2*4. Tormented, as the Latii?s use vexare, 

H 



146 i AilADISE LOST. 

Saw where the sword of Michael smote, and fell'd 
Squadrons at once : with huge two-handed sway 
Brandish'd aloft the horrid edge came down 
"Wide wasting : such destruction to v/ithstand 
He hasted, and opposed the rocky orb 
Of tenfoM adamant, his ample shield : 253 

A vast circumference. At his approach 
The great Arch-Angel from his warlike toil 
Surceased, and glad, as hoping here to end 
Intestine war in heav'n, tli' arch-foe subdued, 
Or captive dragg'd in chains, with hostile frov/n 20f 
And visage all inflamed, lirst thus began : 

Author of evil, unknown till thy revolt. 
Unnamed in Heav'n, now plenteous, as thou seest 
These acts of hateful strife, hateful to all, 
Though heaviest by just measure on thyself 265 

And thy adherents, hov/ hast thou disturb'd 
Heav'n's blessed peace, and into nature brought 
Misery, uncreated till the crime 
Of thy rebellion ? How hast thou iiistilVd 
Thy malice into thousands, once upright 270 

And faithful, now proved false ? But think not heie 
To trouble holy rest ; Keav'n casts thee out 
From all her confines. Heav'n, the seat of bliss, 
Brooks not the works of violence and war. 
Hence then, and evil go with thee along, 2T5 

Thy offspring, to the place of evil. Hell, 
Thou and thy wicked crew ; there raingie broils 
Ere this avenging sword begin thy doom, 
Or some more sudden vengeance wing'd from God 
Precipitate thee with augmented pain. 280 

So spake the Prince of Angels : to whom thus 
The Ad versary : Nor think thou with wind 
Of aery threats to awe whom yet with deeds 
Thou canst not. Hast thou turn'd the least of these 
To flight, or if to fall, but that they rise 285 

Unvanquish'd, easier to transact with me 
That thou shouldst hope, imperious, and with threats 
To chase me hence 1 Err not that so shall end 
The strife which thou call'st evil, but we style 
The strife of glory ; which we mean to win, 290 

Or turn this Heav'n itself into the Hell 

2S2. Adversary, the meaning of the Hebrew, Satan. 



BOOK VI. 147 

Thou fablest, here however to dwell free, 

If not to reign. Mean while thy utmost force, 

And join him named Almighty to thy aid, 

I fly not, but have sought thee far and nigh. 295 

They ended parle, and both address'd for fight 
Unspeakable ; for who, though with the tongue 
Of Angels, can relate, or to what things 
Liken on earth conspicuous, that may lift 
Human imagination to such height 300 

Of Godlike pow'r? for likest Gods they seem'd, 
Stood they or moved, in stature, motion, arms, 
Fit to decide the empire of great Heav'n. 
Now waved their fiery swords, and in the air 
Made horrid circles : two broad suns their shields 
Blazed opposite, while expectation stood 306 

In horror: from each hand with speed retired. 
Where erst was thickest fight, th' angelic throng. 
And left large field, unsafe within the wind 
Of such commotion: such as, to set forth 310 

Great things by small, if Nature's concord broke, 
Among the constellations war were sprung. 
Two planets rushing from aspect malign 
Of fiercest opposition in mid-sky 
Should combat, and their jarring spheres confound. 
Together both with next to' almighty arm 316 

Uplifted imminent, one stroke they aim'd 
That might determine, and not need repeat, 
As not of pow'r at once ; nor odds appear'd 
In might or swift prevention. But the sword 320 
Of Michael from the armoury of God, 
Was giv'n him temper d so, that neither keen 
Nor solid might resist that edge. It met 
The sword of Satan with steep force to smite 
Descending, and in half cut sheer; nor stay'd, 325 
But with swift wheel reverse, deep ent'ring shared 
All his right side : then Satan first knew pain. 
And writhed him to and fro convolved ; so sore 
The griding sword with discontinuous wound 

208. Can relate or liken : the substantive yZ^A^ before mentioned 
must be understood after these verbs. 

312. Bentlev proposes to read warfare instead of war here. 

321. SoVirail mentions the sword of ^neas ; Homer and Tasso 
also are imitated in this passag-e. 

325. Homer, II. iii. 363. Virg-il, ^n. xii. 731. 

329. Disccnlinuous, separating' the parts. 



148 PARADISE LOST. 

Pass'd through him : hut th* ethereal substance closed, 
Not long- divisible; and from the gash 331 

A stream of nect'rous humour issuing-, flow'd 
Sanguine, such as celestial Spirits may bleed, 
And all his ai'niour stain'd ere while so bright. 
Forthwith on all sides to his aid was run 335 

By angels many' and strong-, who interposed 
Defence, while others bore him on their shields 
Back to his chariot, where it stood retired 
From oif the files of war : there they him laid 
Gnashing- for anguish, and despite, and shame, 340 
To find himself not matchless, and his pride 
Humbled by such rebuke, so far beneath 
His confidence to equal God in pow'r. 
Yet soon he heal'd ; for Spirits that live throughout 
Vital in ev'ry part, not as frail man 345 

In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, 
Cannot but by annihilating die ; 
Nor in their liquid texture mortal wound 
Receive, no more than can the fluid air. 
All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear, 350 
All intellect, all sense : and as they please. 
They limb themselves : and colour, shape, or size 
Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare. 

Meanwhile in other parts like deeds deserved 
Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought, 355 
And with fierce ensigns pierced the deex> array 
Of Moloch, furious king; who him defy'd, 
And at his chariot-wheels to drag him bound 
Threaten'd; nor from the Holy One of Heav'n 
Refrain'd his tongue blasphemous ; but anon 360 
Down cloven to the waist, with shatter'd arms 
And uncouth pain fled bellowing. On each wing 
Uriel and Raphael his vaunting foe, 

332. Homer calls the blood flowing- from tlie gods ichor, that 
is, a pure fluid corresponding to the more refined substance ot 
their bodies. Bentley reads^ ichorous instead of nect'rous, bill 
this would be a tautology as sanguine follows. — See Horn. II. v. 

335. Was run, a Latinism, ventum est. 

3.55. The 7night of Gabriel fojight, u Creek expression frequeui 
In Homer. ^ ,,.,... 

362. So Mars is represented flying from battle in the Iliad. 

3fi3. Raphael speaks here in the third person of himself, '.lir. 
name being unknown to Adam —Some «-itics propose to add 
each after Raphael. 



BOOK VI. 149 

Though huge, and in a rock of diamond arm'd, 
Vanquish'd Adramelech and Asmadai, 363 

Two potent Thrones, that to he less than Gods 
Disdain'd, hut meaner thoughts learn'd in their flight, 
Mangled with ghastly wounds through plate and 
Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy [mail. 

The atheist crew, but with redoubled blow 370 

Ariel and Arioch, and the violence 
Of Ramiel scorch'd and blasted overthrew. 
I might relate of thousands, and their names 
Eternize hei-e on earth ; but those elect 
Angels, contented with their fame in Heaven, 375 
Seek not the praise of men. Ihe other sort 
In might though wondrous, and in acts of war, 
Nor of renown less eager, yet by doom 
Cancell'd from Heaven and sacred memory, 
Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell. 380 

For strength from truth divided and from just, 
Illaudable, nought merits but dispraise 
And ignominy ; yet to glory' aspires 
Vain-glorious, and through infamy seeks fame : 
Therefore eternal silence be their doom. 385 

And no w their mightiest queird, the battle swerved. 
With many an inroad gored ; deformed rout 
Enter'd, and foul disorder ; ail the ground 
With shiver'd armour strewn, and on a heap 
Chariot and charioteer lay overturn'd, 390 

And fiery foaming steeds : what stood, recoil'd 
O'erwearied, through the faint Satanic host 
Defensive scarce, or with pale fear surprised, 
Then first with fear surprised and sense of pain. 
Fled ignominious, to such evil brought 395 

By sin of disobedience, till that hour 
Not liable to fear, or flight, or pain. 
Far otherwise th' inviolable Saints 
In cubic phalanx firm advanced entire, 
Invulnerable, impenetrably arm'd : 400 

Such high advantages their innocence 
Gave them above their foes, not to have sinn'd, 

365. Adrawelech, afterwards one of the idols of Sepharvaim, 
2 Kings xvii 31. Asmadai, the same as Asraodeiis, Tobit iii. <'. 

yn^ Ariel, a name in Hebrew, meaning- a stron"- lion : Arioch 
has a similar sense. Ramiel, one exalting- hiniseli ag-ainst God. 

391. What stood is the nominative to the verbs recoWd anu tied* 



150 PARADISE LOST. 

Not to have disoLey'd : in figlit they stood 
Unwearied, unobnoxious to be pairi'd 404 

By wound, tho' from their place by violence moved. 

Now Night her course began, and over Heaven 
Inducing darkness, grateful truce imposed. 
And silence on the odious din of war. 
Under her cloudy covert both retired, 
Victor and vanquish'd, on the foughten field 410 

Micha(§l and his angels prevalent 
Encamping, placed in guard their watches round, 
Cherubic waving fires. On th' other part 
•Satan with his rebellious disappear'd. 
Far in the dark dislodged ; and void of rest, 415 

His potentates to council call'd by night ; 
And in the midst thus undismay'd began : 

O now in danger try'd, now known in arms, 
Not to be overpow'r'd. Companions dear. 
Found worthy not of liberty alone, 420 

Too mean pretentje, but what we more aifect, 
Honour, dominion, glory, and renown ; 
Who have sustain'd one day in doubtful fight 
(And if one day, why not eternal days 1) 
What Heaven's Lord had pow'rfuUest to send 425 
Against us from about his throne, and judged 
Sufficient to subdue us to his will, 
But proves not so : then fallible, it seems. 
Of future we may deem him, though till now 
Omniscient thought. True is, less firmly arm'd, 430 
Some disadvantage we endured and pain. 
Till now not known ; but known, as soon contemn'd; 
Since now we find this our empyreal form 
Incapable of mortal injury, 

Imperishable, and though pierced with wound, 435 
Soon closing, and by native vigour heal'd. 
Of evil then so small, as easy think 
The remedy ; perhaps more valid arms. 
Weapons raore violent, when next we meet. 
May serve to better us, and worse our foes ; 440 

Or equal what between us made the odds. 
In nature none. If other hidden cause 
Left them superior, while we can preserve 
Unhurt our minds and understanding sound, 
407. Inducing, bringing on. 



BOOK VI. 151 

Due search and consultation will disclose. 445 

He sat ; and in th' assembly next upstood 
Nisroch, of principalities the piime- 
As one he stood escaped from cruel fight, 
Sore toil'd, his riven arms to havoc hewn, 
And cloudy in aspect, thus answ'ring spate : 450 

Delivei'er from new Lords, leader to free 
Enjoyment of our right as Gods : yet hard 
For Gods, and too unequal work, we find. 
Against unequal arms to fight in pain. 
Against unpain'd, impassive ; from Avhich evil 455 
Ruin must needs ensue ; for what avails 
Valour or strength, though matchless, quell'd with 

pain 
Which all suhdues, and makes remiss the hands 
Of mightiest ? Sense of pleasure we may well 
Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, 4G0 

But live content, which is the calmest life : 
But pain is perfect misery, the worst 
Of evils, and excessive, overturns 
All patience. He who therefore can invent 
With what more forcible we may offend 405 

Our yet unwounded enemies, or arm 
Ourselves with like defence, to me deserves 
No less than for deliverance what we owe. 

Whereto, with look composed, Satan i*eply'd: 
Not uninvented that, which thou aright 470 

Believ'st so main to our success, I bring. 
Which of us who beholds the bright surface 
Of this ethereous mould whereon we stand. 
This continent of spacious Heav'n, adorn'd 
With plant, fruit, flow'r ambrosial, gems, and gold ; 
Whose eye so superficially surveys 47(5 

These things, as not to mind from whence they grow 
Deep under ground, materials dark and crude. 
Of spirituous and fiery spume, till touch'd 
With Heaven's ray, and temper'd, they shoot forth 
So bounteous, op'ning to the ambient light 1 481 

These in their dark nativity the deep 

447. Nisroch, god of the Assyrians, in whose temple Senna- 
cherib was slain. 2 King-s xix. 37. and Isa. xxvii. 37. 

482. The deep, not hell, as is usually meant by this word, bu< 
the under parts of the ground. 



152 PARADISE LOST. 

Shall yield uis, pregnant with infernal flame ; 
Which into hollow engines, long and round, 
Thick ramm'd, at th' other bore with touch of fire 485 
Dilated and infuriate, shall send forth 
From far, with thund'ring- noise among our foes. 
Such implements of mischief, as shall dash 
To pieces, and o'erwhelm whatever stands 
Adverse, that they shall fear we have disarm'd 490 
The Tliund'rer of his only dreaded bolt. 
Nor long shall be our labour ; yet ere dawn. 
Effect shall end our wish. Mean while revive ; 
Abandon fear ; to strength and council join'd 
Think nothing hard, much less to be despair'd. 495 

He ended, and his words their drooping cheer 
Enlighten'd, and their languish'd hope revived, 
Th' invention all admired, and each, how he 
To he th' inventor miss'd ; so easy' it seem'd 
Once found, which yet unfound most would have 
thought 500 

Impossible ; yet haply of thy race 
In future days, if malice should abound. 
Some one intent on mischief, or inspired 
With dev'lish machination, might devise 
Like instrument to plague the sons of men 505 

For sin, on war and mutual slaughter bent. 
Forthwith from council to the work they flew ; 
None arguing stood ; innumerable hands 
Were ready ; in a moment up they turn'd 
Wide the celestial soil, and saw beneath 510 

Th' originals of nature in their crude 
Conception ; sulphurous and nitrous foam 
They found, they mingled, and with subtle art. 
Concocted and adjusted they reduced 
To blackest grain, and into store convey'd. 515 

Part hidden veins digg'd up (nor hath this earth 
Entrails unlike) of mineral and stone. 
Whereof to found their engines and their balls 
Of missive ruin ; part incentive reed 
Provide, pernicious with one touch to fire. 520 

So all ere day-spring, under conscious night, 
Secret they finish'd, and in order set, 

r20 Pernicious ; to be understood, it is probable, as the Latii: 
pe-nisif quick, speedy. 



BOOK VI. 153 

With silent circumspection unespy'd. 

ISow when fair morn orient in Heav'n appear'd, 
Up rose the victor Angels, and to arms 52-5 

The matin-trumpet sung-. In arms they stood 
Of golden panoply, refulg-ent host, 
Soon banded : others from the dawning hills 
Look'd round, and scouts each coast light-armed scourj 
Each quarter, to descry the distant foe, 53C 

Where lodged, or M^hither iled, or if for fig'ht, 
In motion or in halt. Him soon they met 
Under spread ensigns moving' nigh, in slow 
But firm battalion. Back with speediest sail 
Zophiel, of Cherubim the swiftest wing, 535 

Came flying, and in mid-air aloud thus cry'd: 

Arm, Warriors, arm for fight; the foe at hand. 
Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit 
This day. Fear not his flight ; so thick a cloud 
He comes, and settled in his face I see 540 

Sad resolution and secure. Let each 
His adamantine coat gird well, and each 
Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield, 
Borne ev'n or high ; for this day will pour down. 
If I conjecture aught, no drizzling show'r, 545 

But rattling storm of arrows barb'd with lire. 

So warn'd he them, aware themselves, and soon 
In order, quit of all impediment ; 
Instant without disturb they took alarm, 
And onward moved embattled ; when behold, 550 
Not distant far with heavy pace the foe 
Approaching gross and huge, in hollow cube 
Training his devilish engin'ry, impaled 
On ev'ry side with shadowing squadrons deep, 
To hide the fraud. At interview both stood 556 

A while ; but suddenly at head appear'd 
Satan, and thus was heard commanding loud : 

Vang-uard, to right and left the front unfold, 
That all may see who hate us, how we seek 
Peace and composure, and with open breast 5GQ 

527. Panoply, complete armour. 

535. Zophiel, the spy of God. 

541. Sad, sullen, or as in old authors grave and serious. 

548. Impediment, like the Latin impedimenta^ the bajfgage 

of an arn)y. 

553. Training, drawing in train, 

H2 



154 PvXRADISE LOST. 

Stand ready to receive them, if they like 
Our overture, and turn not back perverse ; 
But that I doubt. However witness Heaven, 
Heav'n witness thou anon, while we discharge 
Freely our part ; ye who appointed stand, 563 

Do as ye have in charge, and briefly touch 
What we propound, and loud that all may hear. 

So scoffing in ambiguous words, he scarce 
Had ended ; when to right and left the front 
Divided, and to either flank retired : 57Q 

Which to our eyes discover'd, new and strange, 
A triple mounted row of pillars laid 
On wheels (for like to pillars most they seem'd, 
Or hollow'd bodies made of oak or flr, 
With branches lopt, in wood or jnountain fell'd) 575 
Brass, iron, stony mold, had not their mouths 
With hideous orifice gaped on us wide. 
Portending hollow truce. At each, behind, 
A Seraph stood, and in his hand, a reed 
Stood waving, tipt with fire : while we suspense 5S0 
Collected stood within our thoughts amused. 
Not long, for sudden ail at once their reeds 
Put forth, and to a narrow vent apply 'd 
With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame, 584 

But soon obscured with smoke, all Heav'n appear'd. 
From those deep-throated engines belch'd, whose roar 
Imbowel'd with outrageous noise the air. 
And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul 
Their dev'lish glut, chain'd thunderbolts and hail 
Of iron globes; which on the victor host 590 

Levell'd with such impetuous fury smote. 
That whom they hit, none on their feet might stand, 
Though standing else as rocks, but down they fell 
By thousands. Angel on Arch- Angel roll'd ; 
The sooner for their arms ; unarm'd they might 595 
Have easily as Spirits evaded swift 
By quick contraction or remove ; but now 
Foul dissipation follow'd and forced rout; 
Nor served it to relax their serried files. 

576. Mold, substance. There are stone cannon, it is saif), al 
Delft in Holland, and Milton is supposed to have taken this idea 
trom bavin;? seen them, 
580. Held, instead of stood, is proposed as a nevr readinn'i^ 
599. Serried, from the Italian serrato; close, compact. 



BOOK VI. 155 

What should they do? If on they rush'd, repulse 600 

Repeated, and indecent overthrow 

Doubled, would render theni yet more despised. 

And to their foes a laug-hter; for in view 

Stood rank'd of Seraphim another row. 

In posture to displode their second tire 605 

Of f hunder : back defeated to return 

They worse abhorr'd. Satan beheld their plight. 

And to his mates thus in derision call'd : 

O Friends, why come not on these "victors proud? 
Ere while they fierce were coming-; and when we 
To entertain them fair with open front ClI 

And breast (what could Ave more ?) propounded terms 
Of composition, straight they changed their minds, 
Flew off, and into strangle vagaries fell, 
As they would dance ; yet for a dance they seem'd 
Somewhat extravagant and wild, perhaps 616 

For joy of offer'd peace. But 1 suppose. 
If our proposals once again were heard. 
We should compel them to a quick result. 

To whom thus Belial, in like gamesome mood : 620 
Leader, the terms we sent wei'e terms of weight. 
Of hard contents, and full of force urged home, 
Such as we might perceive amused them all. 
And stumbled many ; who receives them right, 
Had need from head to foot well understand ; 625 
Not understood, this gift they have besides. 
They shew us when our foes walk not upright. 

So they among themselves in pleasant vein. 
Stood scoffing, heighten'd in their thoughts beyond 
All doubt of victory ; Eternal Might 630 

To match with their inventions they presumed 
So easy', and of his thunder made a scorn. 
And all his host derided, while they stood 
A while in trouble : but they stood not long ; 
Rage prompted them at length, and found them arms 
Against such hellish mischief fit to' oppose 636 

Forthwith (behold the excellence, the pow'r, 
Which God hath in his mighty Angels placed !) 
Their arms away they threw, and to the hills 
(For earth hath this variety from Heav'n 640 

620. Belial was mostfittod bv liis choracter to make tlie answci 
were '635. See Virgil, JEn. i. ir>0. 



156 PARADFSR LOST. 

Of pleasure situate in hill and dale) 

Light as the lightning- glimpse they ran, they flew ; 

From their foundations loos'ning to and fro, 

The^^ pluck'd the seated hills with all their load. 

Rocks, waters, woods, and, by the shaggy tops 645 

Uplifting, bore them in their hands. Amaze, 

Be sure, and terror seized the rebel host. 

When coming towards them so dread they saw 

The bottom of the mountains upward turn'd ; 

Till on those cursed engines triple-row 650 

They saw them whelm'd, and all their confidence 

Under the weight of mountains buried deep; 

Themselves invaded next, and on their heads 

Main promontories flung, which in the air 654 

Came shadowing, and oppress'd whole legions arm'd. 

Their armour help'd their harm,c-rush'd in and bruis'd 

Into their substance pent, which wrought them pain 

Implacable, and many a dolorous groan 

Long struggling underneath, ere they could wind 

Out of such pris'n, though Spirits of purest light; 66C 

Purest at first, now gross by sinning grown. 

The rest in imitation to like arms 

Betook them, and the neighb'ring hills uptore : 

So hills amid the air encounter'd hills, 

Hurl'd to and fro with jaculation dire, 665 

That under ground they fought in dismal shade ; 

Infernal noise ! War seem'd a civil game 

To this uproar : horrid confusion heap'd 

Upon confusion rose : and now all Heav'n 

Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread, 670 

Had not th* Almighty Father, where he sits 

Shrined in his sanctuary of Heav'n secure, 

Consulting- on the sum of things, foreseen 

This tumult, and permitted all, advised : 

That his great purpose he might so fulfil, 675 

To honour his anointed Son avenged 

661. It is hardly necessary to call the reader's attention to the 
admirable moral lesson given by the idea m this line. 

669. It should be observed how the horrors thicken as this war 
of ang-els proceeds: no poet ever equalled the terrible sublimity 
of these descriptions. Homer we cannot doubt would have done 
60, had he had Milton's subject and the prophets' light which 
revelation gave him, but as it was, he could soar no higher than 
the hignest point of earth, which though he made it the very 
throne of sublimity was still but earth. 



BOOK VI. 157 

Upon his enemies, and to declare 

All pow'r on him transferr'd : whence to his Son 

Th' Accessor of his throne, he thus beg'an ; 

Effulgence of my glory, Son beloved, 630 

Son in whose face invisible is beheld 
Visibly what by Deity I am. 
And in v/hose hand what by decree I do, 
Second Omnipotence, two days are past. 
Two days, as we compute the days of Heav'n, 68a 
Since Michael and his Fow'rs went forth to tame 
These disobedient. Sore hath been their fight, 
As likeliest was, when two such foes met arm'd ; 
For to themselves I left them, and thou know'st 
Equal in their creation they were form*d, 690 

Save what sin hath impair'd, which yet hath 
Insensibly, for I suspend their doom ; [wrought 

Whence in perpetual fight they needs must last 
Endless, and no solution will be found. 
War wearied hath perfonn'd what war can do, 695 
And to disorder'd rage let loose the reins. 
With mountains as with weapons arm'd, which makes 
Wild work in Heav'n, and dang'rous to the main. 
Two days are therefore past, the third is thine ; 
For thee I have ordain'd it, and thus far 700 

Have suffer'd, that the glory may be thine 
Of ending this great war, since none but Thou 
Can end it. Into Thee such virtue' and grace 
Immense I have transfused, that all may know 
In Heav'n and Hell thy pow'r above compare; 7C5 
And this perverse commotion govern'd thus. 
To manifest thee worthiest to be Heir 
Of all things ; to be Heir and to be King 
By sacred unction, thy deserved right. 
Go then, thou Mightiest in thy Father's might, 710 
Ascend my chariot, guide the rapid wheels 
That shake Heav'n's basis, bring forth all my war. 
My bow and thuader ; my almighty arms 
Gird on, and sword upon thy puissant thigh : 
Pursue these sons of darkness, drive them out 715 
From all Heav'n*s bounds into the utter deep ; 
There let them learn, as likes them, to despise 

681. Invisible, for, that which is invisible. 
710. See the originol of this splendid passage, Ps. xlv, 3, 4» 



158 PARADISE LOST. 

God and Messiah his anointed King. 

He said, and on his Son with rays direct 
Shone full ; he all his Father full express'd 7^ 

Ineffably into hi«» face received; 
And thus the filial Godhead answ'ring, spake : 

O Father, O Supreme of Heav'nly Thrones, 
First, Highest, Holiest, Best, thou always seek'st 
To glorify thy Son ; I always thee, 725 

As is most just ; this I my glory' account, 
My exaltation, and my whole delight. 
That thou in me well pleased, declar'st thy will 
Fulfiird ; which to fulfil is all my bliss. 
Sceptre and pow'r, thy giving, I assume, 730 

And gladlier shall resign, when in the end 
Thou shalt be All in All, and I in thee 
For ever, and in me all whom thou lov'st : 
But whom thou hat'st, I hate, and can put on, 
Thy terrors, as I put thy mildness on, 735 

Image of thee in all things ; and shall soon, 
Arm'd with thy might, rid Heav'n of these rebell'd. 
To their prepared ill mansion driv'n down. 
To chains of darkness, and th' undying worm. 
That from thy just obedience could revolt, 740 

Whom to obey is happiness entire. 
Then shall thy Saints unmix'd, and from th' impure 
Far separate, circling thy holy mount. 
Unfeigned Hallelujahs to thee sing, 
Hymns of high praise : and I among them Chief. 745 

So said, he o'er his sceptre bowing, rose 
From the right hand of glory where he sat ; 
And the third sacred morn began to shine, 
Dawning through Heav'n. Forth rush'd with whirl- 
The chariot of paternal Deity, [wind sound 

Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel undrawn, 
Itself instinct with Spirit, but convoy'd 
By four Cherubic shapes : four faces each 
Had wondrous; as with stars their bodies all 
And wings were set with eyes, with eyes the wheels 
Of beryl, and careering fires between ; 756 

732. 1 Cor. XV. 24. and John xvii. 

748. Milton is supposed, by making- the contest last three days, to 

allude to the time occupied bv the death and resurrection of Chrisfc 

749. See Ezekiel i. 4, also Isa. Ixvi. 15. 



BOOK VI. 15S 

Over their heads a crystal iirrnaraeiit, 

Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure 

Amber, and coloui-s of the vshow'ry arch. 

He in celestial panoply all arm'd 7<I0 

Of radiant Urim, work, divinely wrought, 

Ascended. At his right hand victory 

Sat eagle-wing'd ; beside him hung his bow 

And quiver with three-bolted thunder stored ; 

And from about him fierce effusion roU'd 765 

Of smoke and bick'i'ing flame and sparkles dire : 

Attended with ten thousand thousand Saints, 

He onward came ; far off his coming shone ; 

And twenty thousand (I their number heard) 

Chariots of God, half on each hand were seen. 770 

He on the wings of Cherub rode sublime 

On the crystalline sky, in sapphire throned, 

niustrious far and wide, but by his own 

First seen; them unexpected joy surprised. 

When the great ensign of Messiah blazed 775 

Aloft, by Angels borne, his sign in Heav'n ; 

Under whose conduct Michael soon reduced 

His army, circumfused on either wing, 

Under their Head embody'd all in one. 

Before him pow'r divine his way prepared : 780 

At his command th' uprooted hills retired 

Each to his place; they heard his voice, and went 

Obsequious; Heav'n his wonted face renew'd, 

And with fresh fiow'rets hill and valley smiled. 

Phis saw his hapless foes, but stood obdured, 785 

And to rebellious fight rallied their Pow'rs 

Insensate, hope conceiving from despair. 

In Heav'nly Spirits could such perverseness dwell? 

But to convince the proud what signs avail. 

Or wonders move th' obdurate to relent? 790 

They, harden'd more by what might most reclaim. 

Grieving to see his glory, at the sight 

Took envy ; and aspiring to his highth. 

Stood re-embattled fierce, by force or fraud 

760. The Urim and Thumnnm formed part of Aaron's breast 
plate. Tlie former in Hebrew means lighty the \niier perfection. 

765. Ps. xviii. 8. 1. 3. for the next line see Jude 14. Ps. IxviJi. 
17. Revvii. 4. 771. Ps. xviii. 10. 

776. 1 1 is doiibtfal whether Milton aikuied to any particular si srn 
hce but assuredly, I think, not to the cross, as has been supposed. 

M 



163 PARADISE LOST. 

Weening to prosper, and at length prevail 795 

Against God and Messiah, or to fall 

In universal ruin last ; and now 

To final battle drew, disdaining flight 

Or faint retreat; when the great Son of God 

To all his host on either hand thus spake : 800 

Stand still in bright array, ye Saints ; here stand 
Ye Angels arm'd, this day from battle rest: 
Faithful hath been your waifare, and of God 
Accepted, fearless in his righteous cause ; 
And as ye have received, so have ye done 805 

Invincibly : but of this cursed crew 
I'he punishment to other hand belongs : 
Vengeance is his, or whose he sole appoints ; 
Number to this day's work is not ordain'd, 
Nor multitude ; stand only and behold 810 

God's indignation on these Godless pour'd 
By me ; not you, but me, they have despised, 
Yet envy'd. Against me is all their rage, 
Because the Father, t' whom in Heav'n supreme 
Kingdom, and pow'r, and glory appertains, 815 

Hath honour'd me according to his will. 
Therefore to me their doom he hath assign'd ; 
That they may have their wish, to try with me 
In battle which the stronger proves ; they all, 
Or I alone against them, since by strength S20 

They measure all, of other excellence 
Not emulous, nor care who them excels ; 
Nor other strife with them do I vouchsafe. 

So spake the Son, and into terror changed 
His count'nance, too severe to be beheld, 825 

And full of wrath bent on his enemies. 
At once the Four spread out their starry wing"? 
With dreadful shade contiguous, and the orbs 
Of his fierce chariot roU'd, as with the sOund 
Of torrent floods, or of a num'rous host. 83C 

He on his impious foes right onward drove. 
Gloomy as night : under his burning wheels 
The steadfast empyrean shook throu^^hout, 
All but the throne itself of God. Full soon 
Among them he arrived ; in his right hand 835 

832. Gloomy as nightf from Hoiuer, who so mentions Apollo 
and Hector. 



BOOK VI. 



161 



Grasping- ten thousand thunders, which he sent 

Before him, such as in their souls infix'd 

Plagues. They astonish'd, all resistance lost, 

A.11 courage ; down their idle weapons dropt ; 

O'er shields and helms and helmed heads he rode 

Of Thrones and mighty Seraphim prostrate, 841 

That wish'd the mountains now might be again 

Thrown on them, as a shelter from his ire. 

Nor less on either side tempestuous fell 

His arrows, from the fourfold-visaged Four, 845 

Distinct with eyes, and from the living wheels 

Distinct alike with multitude of eyes ; 

One Spirit in them ruled, and ev'ry eye 

Glared lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire 

Among th' accursed, that wither'd all their strength, 

And of their wonted vigour left them drain'd, 851 

Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fall'n. 

Yet half his strength he put not forth, hut check'd 

His thunder in mid volley ; for he meant 

Not to destroy, hut root them out of Heav'n. 855 

The overthrown he raised, and, as a herd 

Of goats or tim'rous flock together throng'd. 

Drove them before him thunder-struck, pursued 

With terrors and with furies to the bounds 

And crystal wall of Heav'n ; which opening wide, 

Roll'd inward, and a spacious gap disclosed 861 

Into the wasteful deep. The monstrous sight 

Struck them with horror backward, but far worse 

Urg-ed them behind : headlong themselves they threw 

DoAvn from the yerge of Heav'n ; eternal wrath 860 

Burnt after them to the bottomless pit. 

Hell heard th' unsufferable noise ; Hell saw 
Heav'n ruining from Heav'n, and would have fled 
Affrighted ; but strict Fate had cast too deep 
Her dark foundations, and too fast had bound. S70 
Nine days they fell: confounded Chaos roar'd. 
And felt tenfold confusion in their fall 
Through his wild anarchy, so huge a rout 
Incumber'd him with ruin. Hell at last 
Yawning, received them whole, and on them closed : 
Sell, their fit habitation, fraught with fire 876 

S42. Rev. vi. 16. 859. Job vi. 4. 

858. Ruining, from the Latin ruo, to rush or fall headlong-. 



162 PARADISE LOST. 

Unquenchable, the house of woe and pain. 

Disbarden'd Heav'n rejoiced, and soon repair'd 

Her mural breach, returning ^yhence it roll'd. 

Sole victor from th' expulsion of his foes, 830 

Messiah his triumphal chariot turn'd : 

To nieet him, all his saints, who silent stood 

Eye-witnesses of his almighty acts. 

With jubilee advanced; and as they went. 

Shaded with branching palm, each order bright, 885 

Sung triumph, and him sung victorious King, 

Son, Heir, and Lord, to him dominion given, 

Worthiest to reign. He celebrated rode 

Triumphant through mid Heav n, into the courts 

And temple of his Mighty Fatlier throned 890 

On high ; who into glory him received; 

Where now he sits at the right hand of bliss. 

Thus measuring things in Heav'n by things o» 
Earth, 
At thy request, and that thou may'st beware 
By what is past, to thee I have reveal'd SQ.'j 

What might have else to human race been hid ; 
The discord which befel, and war in Heav'n 
Among th' Angelic Pow'rs, and the deep fall. 
Of those too high aspiring, who rebell'd 
With Satan ; he who envies now thy state, 900 

Who now is plotting how he may seduce 
Thee also from obedience, that with him 
Bereaved of happiness thou may'st partake 
His punishment, eternal misery : 
Which would be all his solace and revenge, 905 

As a despite done against the Most High, 
Thee once to gain companion of his woe. 
But listen not to his temptations, warn 
Thy weaker ; let it profit thee to' have heard. 
By teirible example, the reward 910 

Of disobedience. Firm they might have stood. 
Yet fell ; remember, and fear to transgress. 

888. Rev. iv. ij. 
eoo. Him is understood after envies— or, it is after **• 



BOOK VII. 

THE ARGUMENT. 

Raphael, at the request of Adam, relates how and wherefore 
this world was first created : that God after the expelling of Sa- 
tan and his Angels out of Heaven, declared his pleasure to create 
another world and other creatures to dwell therein ; sends Lis 
Son with glory and attendance of Angels to perform the work of 
creation in six days ; the Angels celebrate with hymns the per 
formance thereof, and his reascension into Heaven. 

Descend from Heav'n, Urania, by that name 
If rightly thou art call'd; Avhose voice divine 
Following, above th' Olympian hill I soar, 
Above the flight of Pegasean wing. 
The meaning, not the name I call ; for thou 5 
Nor of the Muses nine, nor on the top 
Of old Olympus dv^ell'st, but heav'nly born : 
Before the hills appear'd, or fountain flow^'d, 
Thou with eternal Wisdom didst converse, 
Wisdom thy sister, and with her didst play 10 
In presence of th' Almighty Father, pleased 
With thy celestial song. Up led by thee 
Into the Heav'n of Heav'ns I have presumed, 
An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air, 
Thy temp'ring. W^ith like safety guided down, 15 
Return me to my native element; 
Lest from this flying steed, unrein'd (as once 
Bellerophon, though from a lower clime), 

1. Milton has, throng-hout his poem, shewn tlie most admirable 
skill in adapting to his purpose, such parts of the classical my- 
tiiology as he wished to employ. He has been much blamed for 
his frequent, and, as it is thought, affected display of learning Ir. 
lliis particular ; but there is a circumstance which has not, I be- 
lieve, struck the minds of his commentators, which goes far to 
justify him in this respect. -Milton's imagination, filled with tha 
ricli antiquity of his theme, was necessarily frequently occupied 
by tlie splendid pomps with wliich superstition crowds her temple, 
but he could not contemplate a single part of his si'.bject, without 
puttinji the truth of nature and revelation in juxta position witU 
the corruptions of both. Hence many of his most beautiful ideas 
are niixed up with these allusions, and it can hardly fail the no- 
tice of a reflecting reader, that the miiid never once losing sight 
of the various forms under which the enemies of God have ap- 
peared, comprehends fbe compass of the poem more closely than 
it could otherwise have done. 

8 Proverbs viii. 24. 

18. Bellerophon ; he attempted, if is said, to mount to heaven 
Oil the winged horse Pegasus, and fell in the Aleian field or in 
Cilicia. 



161 PARADISE LOST. 

DismouTited, on th' Aleian field I fall 
FaToueous, there to wander and forlorn. 20 

Half yet remains unsung, but narrower bound 
/-^Within the visible diurnal sphere ; -^ 

VvStanding on earth, not rapt above the pole> 
Alore safe I sing with mortal. voice, unchanged 
To hoarse or mute, though fall'n on evil days, 25 
On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues ; 
In darkness, and with dangers compass 'd round 
And solitude !^et not alone, while thou 
Visit'st my slumbers nightl5rXor whed morn 
Purples the eastX^ still govern thou my song, 30 

Urania, and fit audience find, though few; 
But drive far off the barb'rous dissonance 
Of Bacchus and his revellers, the race 
Of that Avild rout that tore the Thracian bard 
Tn Rhodope, where woods and rocks had ears 35 
To rapture, till the savage clamour drown'd 
Both harp and voice ; nor could the Muse defend 
Her son. So fail not thou, who thee implores ; 
\For thou art heav'nly, she an empty di'eam. 

Say, Goddess, what ensued when Raphael, 40 

The affable Arch- Angel, had forewarn'd 
Adam, by dire example, to beware 
Apostasy, by what befel in Heav'n 
To those apostates, lest the like befal 
In Paradise to Adam or his race, 45 

Charged not to touch the interdicted tree, 
If they transgress, and slight that sole command. 
So easily obey'd amid the choice 
Of all tastes else to please their appetite, 
Though wand 'ring. He with his consorted Eve 50 
The story heard attentive, and Avas fiU'd 
With admiration and deep muse, to hear 
Of things so high and strange, things to their thought 
So unimaginable as hate in Heav'n, 
And war so near the peace of God in bliss 55 

21. Half of tlie Episode, or Raphael's account. 
25. An allusion to the condition of himself in the profligfate an<l 
irreligious times of Charles the Second, during which blind and 
nearlected, he lived in an obscure retreat, but probably in danger 
of persecution for his principles. 

* 33. Orpheus, the Thracian bard was torn to pieces by the vo- 
taries or Bacchus, in Rhodope, a mountain of T Ijrace. 



BOOK VII. 165 

With such confusion : but the evil soon 
Driv'n back, redounded as a flood on those 
Frona whom it sprung-, impossible to mix 
With blessedness. Whence Adam soon repeal'd 
The doubts that in his heart arose : and now 60 

Led on, yet sinless, with desire to know 
What nearer might concern him ; how this world 
Of Heav'n and Earth conspicuous, first began ; 
When, and whereof created ; for what cause 
What within Eden or without was done 65 

Before his memory, as one whose drouth 
Yet scarce allay'd, still eyes the current stream. 
Whose liquid murmur heard new thirst excites, 
Proceeded thus to ask his heav'nly guest : 

Great things, and full of wonder in our ears, 70 
Far difF'ring from this world, thou hast reveal'd. 
Divine interpreter, by favour sent 
Down from the empyrean, to forewarn 
Us timely' of what might else have been our loss. 
Unknown, which human knowledge could not reach : 
For which to th' infinitely Good we owe 7(5 

Immortal thanks, and his admonishment 
Receive with solemn purpose, to observe 
Immutably his sov'rcign will, the end 
Of what we are. But since thou hast vouchsafed 80 
Gently for our insti'uction to impart 
Things above earthly thought, which yet concern'd 
Our knowing, as to highest wisdom: seem'd. 
Deign to descend now lower, and relate 
What may no less perhaps avail us known : 85 

How first began this Heav'n which we behold 
Distant so high, with moving fires adorn'd 
Innumerable, and this which yields or fills 
All space, the ambient air wide interfused 
Embracing round this florid Earth ; what cause 90 
Moved the Creator in his holy rest 
Through all eternity so late to build 
In Chaos, and the work begun, how soon 
Absolved, if iinforbid thou may'st unfold 
What we, not to explore the secrets, ask 95 

92. A question often since asked- but well answered by the con- 
iideralion, that whenever the world had been created there would 
have been an eternity before its existence. 



166 FARADiSE LOST. 

Of his eternal empire, but the more 

To magnify his works, the more we know. 

And the great light of day yet wants to run 

Much of his race, though steep ; suspense in Heav'n, 

Held by thy voice, thy potent voice, he hears, 100 

And longer will delay to hear tliee tell 

His generation, and the rising birth 

Of nature from the unapparent deep ; 

Or if the star of ev'ning and the moon 

Haste to thy audience, night with her will bring 105 

Silence, and sleep list'ning to thee will watch ; 

Or we can bid his absence, till thy song 

End, and dismiss thee ere the morning shine. 

Thus Adam his illustrious guest besought ; 
And thus the God-like Angel answer'd mild : 110 

This also thy request with caution ask'd 
Obtain ; though to recount almighty works. 
What words or tongue of Seraph can suffice. 
Or heart of man suffice to comprehend? 
Yet what thou canst attain, which best may serve 
To glorify the Maker, and infer 116 

Thee also happier, shall not be withheld 
Thy hearing ; such commission from above 
I have received, to answer thy desire 
Of knowledge within bounds ; beyond abstain 120 
To ask, nor let thine own inventions hope 
Things not reveal'd, which th' invisible King-, 
Only omniscient, hath suppress'd in nip-ht ; 
To none communicable in Eai-th or Heav'n ; 
Enough is left besides to search and know : 125 

But knowledge is as food, and needs no less 
Her temp'rance over appetite, to know 
In measure what the mind may well contain ; 
Oppresses else with surfeit, and soon turns 
Wisdom to foily', as nourishment to wind. 130 

Know then, that after Lucifer from Heav'n 
(So call him, brighter once amidst the host 
Of Angels than that star the stars among) 
Fell with his flaming legions through the deep 
Into his place, and the great Son return'd 135 

V^ictorious with his saints, th' Omnipotent 
Eternal Father from his throne beheld 

103. Gen. i. 2. 122. Invisible, so in Scripture. 



BOOK Vfl. 167 

Their multitixde, and to his Son thus spake : 

At least our envious foe hath fail'd, who thought 
All like himself rebellious : by whose aid 140 

This inaccessible high strength, the seat 
Of Deity supreme, us dispossess'd, 
He trusted to have seized, and into fraud 
Drew many, whom their place knows here no more ; 
Yet far the greater part have kept, I see, 145 

Their station ; Heav'n yet populous retains 
Number sufficient to possess her realms 
Though wide, and this high temple to frequent 
With ministeries due and solemn rites : 
But lest his heart exalt him in the harm 150 

Already done, to have dispeopled Heav'n, 
My damage fondly deem'd, I can repair 
That detriment, if such it be to lose 
Self-lost, and in a moment will create 
Another world ; out of one nxan a race 155 

Of men innumerable, there to dwell. 
Not here, till by degrees of merit raised. 
They open to themselves at length the way 
Up hither, under long obedience try'd. 
And Earth be changed to Heav'n, and Heav'n to Earth, 
One kingdom, joy and union without end. 161 

Mean v/hile inhabit lax, ye Pow'rs of Heav'n ; 
And thou, my Word, begotten Son, by thee 
This I perform ; speak thou and be it done. 
My overshadowing Spirit and might with thee 165 
I send along ; ride forth, and bid the deep 
Within appointed bounds be Heav'n and Earth, 
Boundless the deep, because I am who fill 
Infinitude, nor vacuous the space. 
Though I uncircumscribed myself retire 170 

And put not forth my goodness which is free 
To act or not, necessity and chance 
Approach not me ; and what I will is fate. 

139. At last, instead of at least, is proposed. 
144. Job vii. 10. 
160. In allusion probably to the new heaven and new earth 
before mentioned, and not, as is suppoeed, to any mere improve- 
ment in man. 

162. Lax, free to follow their former angelic pleasures and 
occupations. It has no relation, as Newton supposes, to space 
or room. 

165. Lukei 35. 



168 PARADISE LOST. 

So spake th' Almighty, and to what he spake. 
His Word, the filial Godhead, gave effect. 175 

Immediate are the acta of God, more swift 
Than time or motion ; but to human ears 
Cannot without process of speech be told ; 
So told as earthly notion can receive. 
Great triumph and rejoicing was in Heav'n, 180 

When such was heard declared th' Almighty's will. 
Glory they sung to the Most High, good-will 
To future men, and in their dwellings peace : 
Glory to him, whose just avenging ire 
Had driven out th' ungodly from his sight 185 

And th' habitations of the just : to him 
Gloi^y and praise, whose wisdom had ordain'd 
Good out of evil to create, instead 
Of Spirits malign, a better race to bring 
Into their vacant room, and tlience diffuse 19^ 

His good to worlds and ages infinite. 

So sang the Hierarchies : Mean while the Son 
On his great expedition now appear'd. 
Girt with omnipotence, with radiance crown'd 
Of majesty divine ; sapience and love 195 

Immense, and all his Father in him shone. 
About his chariot numberless were pour'd 
Cherub and Seraph, Potentates and Thrones, 
And Virtues, winged Spirits, and chariots wing'd 
From th' armoury of God, where stand of old 200 
Myriads between two brazen mountains lodged 
Against a solemn day, harness'd at hand. 
Celestial equipage : and now came forth 
Spontaneous, for within them Spirit lived, 
Attendant on their Lord : Heav'n open'd wide ^-05 
Her ever-dui-ing gates, harmonious sound! 
On golden hinges moving, to let forth 
The King of Glory in his pow'rful Word 
And Spirit coming to ci'eate new worlds. 
On heav'nly ground they stood, and from the shore 
They view'd the vast immeasurable abyss 211 

Outrageous as a sea, dai'k, wasteful, wild, 
^p from the bottom turn'd by furious winds 
And surging waves, as mountains, to assault 

182. God instead of the is proposed by Bentley, 
192. Zech. vi. J, 



BOOK VII. 1G9 

Heavn's height, and with the centre mix the pole. 

Silence, ye troubled waves, and thou deep, peace, 
Said then th' omnific Word; your discord end. 
Nor stay'd, hut on the wings of Cherubim 
Uplifted, in paternal glory rode 

Far into Chaos, and the world unborn ; 220 

For Chaos heard his voice : him all his train 
Follow'd in bright procession, to behold 
Creation, and the wonders of his might. 
Then stay'd the fervid wheels, and in his hand 
He took the golden compasses, prepared 22.'* 

In God's eternal store, to circumscribe 
This universe, and all created things. 
One foot he center'd, and the other turn'd 
Round through the vast profundity obscure. 
And said. Thus far extend, thus far thy bounds, 230 
This be thy just circumference, O world ! 
Thus God the Heav'n created, thus the Earth, 
Matter unform'd and void. Darkness profound 
Cover'd th' abyss ; but on the wat'ry calm 
His brooding wings the Spirit of God outspread, 235 
And vital virtue' infused and vital warmth 
Throughout the fluid mass, but downward purged 
The black tartareous cold infernal dregs 
Adverse to life : then founded, then conglobed 
Like things to like, the rest to sev'ral place 240 

Disparted, and between spun out the air ; 
And Earth, self-balanced, on her centre hung. 

Let there be light, said God ; and forthwith light 
Ethereal first of things, quintessence pure, 

\Sprung from the deep, and from her native east) 245 
To journey through the aery gloom began, / 

I Sphered in a radiant cloud ;| for yet the sun 
225. Prov. viii. 27. 
232. It is well observed, that this book is a mag-nificent para- 
phrase of the Mosaic account of the creation. 
243. Gen. i. 3. I cannoi but observe here that one of the most 
sublime, and at the same time learned of modern reasoners, in 
speaiiing- to me on this passage of Scripture, remarked, that the 
usual way in which it is understood is not only incorrect, but 
greatly diminishes its sublimity, ft is hiehly wrono-, according to 
hill), tc suppose that light was first called into being on the crea- 
tion of this world, for Heaven nad been forever filled with it, and 
God himself is compared to it ; the expression, consequently, 
*Let there be light,' is to be interpreted, ♦ Let the light flow forth, 
lot there be light shining from its great original fountain on the 
commencing system.' 

I 



170 PARADISE LOST. 

Was not : she in a cloudy tabernacle 

Sojourn'd the while. God saw the light was good ; 

And light from darkness by the hemisphere 250 

Divided : light the Day, and darkness Night 

He named. Thus was the first day ev'n and mom : 

Nor past uncelebrated, nor unsung 

By the celestial choirs, when orient light 

Exhaling first from darkness they beheld 255" 

Birth-day of Heav'n and Earth ; with joy and shout 

The hollow universal orb they fiU'd, 

Andtouch'd their golden harps, and hymning praised 

God and his works; Creator him they sung, 

Both when first ev'ning was, and when first morn. 

Again, God said, Let there be firmament 261 

Amid the waters, and let it divide 
The waters from the waters. And God made 
The firmament, expanse of liquid, pure, 
Transparent, elemental air, diifused 265 

In circuit to the uttermost convex 
Of this great round : partition firm and sure, 
The waters underneath from those above 
Dividing : for as earth, so he the world 
Built on circumfluous waters calm, in wide 270 

Crystalline ocean, and the loud misrule 
Of Chaos far removed, lest fierce extremes 
Contiguous might distemper the whole frame : 
And Heav'n he named the Firmament. So ev'n 
And morning chorus sung the second day. 275 

The earth was form'd, but in the womb as yet 
Of waters, embryon immature involved, 
Appear'd not. Over all the face of th' earth 
Main ocean flow'd, not idle, but with warm 
Prolific humour soft'ning all her globe, 280 

Fermented the great mother to conceive, 
Satiate with genial moisture, when God said. 
Be gather 'd now, ye waters under Heav'n, 
Into one place, and let dry land appear. 
Immediately the mountains huge appear 285 

Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave 

256. Job xxxviii. 4. 7. I mi^ht multiply references without end 
la this part of the poem, bat it must be left to the industry or cu- 
riosity of tue reader to discover the scriptural allusious where they 
are so iiunaerous hs in the present instance. 



BOOK VH. 171 

Into the clouds ; their tops ascend the sky: 

So high as heaved the tumid hills, so low 

Down sunk, a hollow bottom broad and deep, 

Capacious bed of waters : thither they 290 

Hasted with g^lad precipitance, uproU'd 

As drops on dust conglobing from the dry ; 

Part rise in crystal wall, or ridge direct, 

For haste : such flight the great command impress'd 

On the swift floods. As armies at the call 295 

Of trumpet (for of armies thou hast heard) 

Troop to their standard, so the wat'ry throng, 

Wave rolling after wave, where way they found ; 

If steep, with torrent rapture ; if through plain, 

Soft-ebbing : nor withstood them rock or hill, 300 

But they, or under ground, or circuit wide 

With serpent error wand'ring, found their way. 

And on the washy oose deep channels wore ; 

Easy, ere God had bid the ground be dry, 

All but within those banks, where rivers now 305 

Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train. 

The dry land. Earth, and the great receptacle 

Of congregated waters ho call'd Seas : 

And saw that it was good, and said. Let th' earth 

Put forth the verdant grass, herb yieldiiig seed, 310 

And ft-uit-tree yielding fruit after her kind. 

Whose seed is in herself upon the earth. 

He scarce had said, when the bare earth, till then 

Desert and bare, unsightly, unadoi*n'd. 

Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad, 

Her universal face with pleasant green; 316 

Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flowVd 

Opening their various colours, and made gay 

Her bosom smelling sweet: and these scarce blown, 

Forth flourish'd thick the clust'ring vine, forth crept 

The smelling gourd, upstood the corny reed 321 

Embattled in her field, and th' humble shrub. 

And bush with frizzled hair implicit. Last 

Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread 

Their branches, hung with copious fruit, or gemm'd 

3*21. Snielling has been susr-^ested, and most probably correctly. 
323. Hair, coma is the saixie in Latin, small leaves, twigs, &c. 
tmplicit, entangled. 
325. Gemm'^df from gemmare, to put torth blossoms. 



172 PARADISE LOST. 

Their blossoms : with high woods the hills were 

crown'd 326 

With tutts the valleys, and each fountain side, 
With borders long the rivers : that earth now 
Seem'd like to Heav'n, a seat Avhere Gods mig-ht 

dwell, 
Or wander with delight, and love to haunt 330 

Her sacred shades. Though God had yet not rain'd 
Upon the earth, and man to till the ground 
None was, but from the earth a dewy mist 
Went up and water'd all the ground, and each 
Plant of the field, which, ere it was in th' earth 335 
God made, and ev'ry herb, before it grew 
On the green stem ; God saw that it was good: 
So ev'n and morn recorded the third day. 

Again the Almighty spake, Let there be Lights 
High in th' expanse of Heaven, to divide 340 

The day from night : and let them be for signs. 
For seasons, and for days, and circling years ; 
And let them be for lights, as I ordain 
Their office in the firmament of Heav'n, 
To give light on the earth : and it was so. 345 

And God made two great lights, great for their use 
To Man ; the greater to have rule by day. 
The less by night altern ; and made the stars 
And set them in the firmament of Heav'n 
T' illuminate the earth, and rule the day 350 

In their vicissitude, and rule the night. 
And light from darkness to divide. God saw. 
Surveying his great work, that it was good : 
For, of celestial bodies, first the sun, 
A mighty sphere, he framed, unlightsome first, 356 
Though of ethereal mould : then form'd the moon 
Globose, and ev'ry magnitude of stars, 
And sow'd with stai's the Heav'n thick, as a field : 
Of light by far the greater part he took. 
Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and placed 300 
In tlie sun's orb, made porous to receive 
And drink the liquid light, firm to retain 
Her gather'd beatns, great palace now of light. 
Hither, as to their fountain, other stars 
Repairing, in their golden urns draw light, 365 

And hence the morning planet gilds her horns j 



BOOK VII. 173 

By tincture or reflection they augment 

Their small peculiar, thouj^h for human sight 

So far remote, with diminution seen. 

First in his east the glorious lamp was seen, 3*^0 

Regent of day, and all tk' horizon round 

Invested with bright rays, jocund to run 

His longitude through Heav'n's high road. The grey 

Dawn and the Pleiades before him danced. 

Shedding sweet influence. Less bright the moon. 

Bat opposite in levell'd west was set 376 

His mirror, with fall face borrowing her light 

From him, for other light she needed none 

In that aspect ; and still that distance keeps 

Till night, then in the east her turn she shines, 380 

Revolved on Heav'n's great axle ; and her reign 

With thousand lesser lights dividual holds. 

With thousand thousand stars, that tlien appear'd 

Spangling the hemisphere. Then first adorn'd 

With her bright luminaries that set and rose, 385 

Glad ev'ning and glad morn crown'd the fourth day. 

And God said. Let the waters generate 
Reptile with spawn abundant, living soul : 
And let fowl fly above the earth, with wings 
Bisplay'd on th' open firmament of Heav'n. 390 

And God created the great whales, and each 
Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously 
The waters generated by their kinds. 
And ev'ry bird of wing after his kind ; 
And saw that it was good, and bless'd them, saying, 
Be fruitful, multiply, and in the seas, 396 

And lakes, and running streams, the waters fill; 
And let the fowl be multiply'd on th' earth. 
Forthwith the sounds and seas, each creek and bay 
With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals 400 

Of fish that with their fins and shining scales 
Glide under the green wave, in sculls that oft 
Bank the mid-sea : part single or with mate 
Graze the sea-weed their pasture, and through groves 
Of coral stray or sporting with quick glance, 405 
Shew to the sun their waved coats dropt with gold. 
Or in their pearly shells at ease, attend 

373. For longilndc Bentley reads his long career. 
402. Sculls, II Saxon word, signifying an assembly. 



I7i PARADISE LOST. 

Moist nutriment, or under rocks their food 

In jointed armour watch. On smooth the seal, 

And bended dolphins play : part huge of bulk 410 

Wallowing unwieldy', enormous in their gait. 

Tempest the ocean : there leviathan, 

Hug-est of living- creatures, on the deep 

Stretch'd like a promontory, sleeps or swims. 

And seems a moYing land, and at his gills 415 

Draws in, and at his trunk spouts out, a sea. 

Meanwhile the tepid caves, and fens, and shoreis 

Their brood as num'rous hatch, from th' egg that soon 

Bursting with kindly rupture forth disclosed 

Their callow young, but feather'd soon and fledge 420 

They summ'd their pens, and soaring th' air sublime, 

With clang despised the ground, under a cloud 

In prospect : there the eagle and the stork 

On cliffs and cedar tops their eyries build : 

Part loosely wing the region, part more wise 425 

In common, ranged in figiire, wedge their way. 

Intelligent of seasons, and set forth 

Their aery caravan high over seas 

Flying, and over lands^ with mutual wing. 

Easing- their flight ; so steers the prudent crane 430 

Her annual voyage, borne on winds ; the air 

Floats as they pass, fann'd with unnumber'd plumes. 

From branch to branch the smaller birds with song 

Solaced the woods, and spread their painted wings 

Till ev'n, nor then the solemn nightingale 435 

Ceased warbling, but all night tuned her soft lays : 

Other? on silver Lilies and rivers bathed 

Their dovi^ny breast. The swan with arched neck 

Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows 

Her state with oary feet ; yet oft they quit ■C'K) 

The dank, and rising on stiff pennons, tow'r 

The mid aereal sky : othei-s on ground 

Walk'd flrm;\the crested cock, whose clarion sounds 

The silent hours,^nd th' other whose gay train 

Adorns him, coloured with the florid hue 445 

410. Bended, hecdinse so appearing' -"Ahen sporting in the sea. 

421. Pens, from tlie Lntiii penna, a feather. Siimin'dy a term 
in falconry, meaning- full sirown. 

423. job xxxix. 27, 28. 

435. Milton's fondness for the nightingale is remarkablj fihewn 
la his repeated allusions to that bird. 



BOOK Y [I. 175 

Of rainbows and starry* eyes. Tlie waters thiis 
With iish reple«iiish'd, and the air with fowl 
Ev'ning and morn solemnized the fifth day. 

The sixth, and of creation last, arose 
With ev'ning harps and matin, when God said, 450 
Let th' earth bring forth soul-liking' in her kind. 
Cattle and creeping things, and beast of th' earth, 
Each in their kind. The earth obey'd ; and straight 
Opening her fertile womb, teem'd at a birth 
Innum'rons living creatures, perfect forms, 455 

Limb'd and full grown. Out of the ground up rose 
As from his lair the wild beast, where he wons 
In forest wild, in thicket, brake, or den ; 
Among the trees in pairs they rose, they walk'd: 
The cattle in the fields and meadows green : 460 
Those rare and solitary, these in flocks, 
Past'ring at once, and in broad herds upsprung. 
The grassy clods now calved ; now half appear'd 
The tawny lion, pawing to get free 464 

His hinder parts, then springs as broke from bonds. 
And rampant shakes his brinded mane : the ounce, 
The libbard, and the tiger, as the mole 
Rising, the crumbled earth above them threw 
In hillocs : the swift stag from under ground 469 
Bore up his branching head ; scarce from his mould 
Behemoth, biggest born of earth, upheaved 
His vastness ; fleeced the flocks and bleating rose, 
As plants : ambiguous between sea and land 
The river-horse and scaly crocodile. 
At once came forth whatever creeps the ground, 475 
Insect or worm : those waved their limber fans 
For wings, and smallest lineaments exact 
In all the liveries deok'd of summer's pride. 
With spots of gold and purple', azure and green : 
These as a line their long dimension drew, 480 

Streaking the ground with sinuous trace ; not all 
Minims of nature ; some of serpent kind. 
Wondrous in length and corpulence, involved 
Their snaky folds, and added wings. First crept 

467. The libbard, the leopard, the word is used by Spensei 
and others, 

471. The Behetnolh is supposed by Bochart to be the river- 
hone. 482. Minims, from the Latin Minima, 

N 



176 PARADISE LOST. 

The parsimonious emmet, provident 485 

Of future, in small room large heart inclosed^ 
Pattern of just equality perhaps 
Hereafter, join'd in her popular tribes 
Of commonalty : swarming- next appear'd 
The female bee, that feeds her husband drone 490 
Deliciovisly, and builds her waxen cells 
With honey stored. The rest are numberless, 
And thou thslj:. najt^xg3j^Jioyir'§.t, and gav'st theni 
Needless to thee repeated; nor unknown [names 
The serpent, subtlest beast of all the field, 495 

Of huge extent sometimes, with brazen eyes 
And hairy mane terrific, though to thee 
Not noxious, but obedient at thy call. 

Now Heav'n in all her glory shone, and roll'd 
Her motions, as the great first Mover's hand 500 
First wheel'd their course ; earth in her rich attire 
Consummate lovely smiled ; air, water, earth, 
By fowl, fish, beast, was flown, was swum, was walk'd 
Frequent; and of the sixth day yet remain 'd; 
There Avanted yet the master-work, the end 505 

Of all yet done ; a creature who not prone 
And brute as other creatures, but endued 
With sanctity of reason, might erect 
His Stature, and upright with front serene 
Govern the rest, self-knowing, and from thence 519 
Magnanimous to con-espond with Heav'n, 
But gTateful to acknowledge whence his good 
Descends ; thither with heart, and voice, and eyes 
Directed in devotion, to adore 

And worship God supreme, who made him chief 515 
Of all his works. Therefore th' Omnipotent 
Eternal Father (for where is not he 
Present ?) thus to his Son audibly spake : 

Let us make now Man in our image, Man 
In our similitude, and let them rule 520 

Over the fish and fowl of sea and air. 
Beast of the field, and over all the earth, 
And ev'ry creeping thing that creeps the ground. 
This said, he form'd thee, Adam, thee, O Man, 
Dust of the ground, and in thy nostrils breathed 525 

497. Vjrg-il describes the serpent as tianng a inaner 



BOOK VII. 177 

The breath of life : in his own image he 

Created thee, in the image of God 

Express ; uiid thou becara'st a living soul. 

Male he created thee, but thy consdrt 

Female for race ; then bless'd mankind, and said, 

Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth, 531 

Subdue it, and throughout dominion hold 

Over fish of the sea, and fowl of th' air. 

And ev'ry living' thing that moves on th' earth. 

Wherever thus created, for no place 535 

Is yet distinct by name, thence, as thou know'st 

He brought thee into this delicious grove, 

This garden, planted with the trees of God, 

Delectable both to behold and taste ; 

And freely all their pleasant fruit for food 540 

Gave thee ; all sorts are here that all th' earth yields. 

Variety without end ; but of the tree, 

Which, tasted, works knowle-dge of good and evil, 

Thou may'st not; in the day thou eat'st, thou dy'st ; 

Death is the penalty imposed ; beware, 545 

And govern well thy appetite, lest Sin 

Sui-prise thee, and her black attendant Death. 

Here finish'd he, and all that he had made 
View'd, and behold all was entirely good ; 
So even and morn accomplish'd the sixth day : 550 
Yet not till the Creator from his work 
Desisting, though unweary'd, up return'd. 
Up to the Heav'n of Heav'ns, his high abode. 
Thence to behold this new-created world, 
Th' addition of his empire, hov/ it shew'd 555 

[n prospect from his throne, how good, how fair, 
Answ'ring his great idea. Up he rode, 
FoUow'd with acclamation, and the sound 
Symphonious of ten thousand harps, that tuned 
Angelic harmonies. The earth, the air 560 

ResoTinded (thou remember'st, for thou heard'st) ; 
The Heav'ns, and all the constellations rung ; 
The planets in their station list'ning stood. 
While the bright pomp ascended jubilant. 



563. The word station is a scientific term, and signifies tlse 
place of a planet when it appears at rest in its orbit. 
12 



1T8 PARADISE LOST. 

Open, ye everlasting gates, they sung ; 565 

Open, ye Heav'ns, your living doors : let in 

The great Creator from his work return 'd 

Magnificent, his six days' work, a world ; 

Open, and henceforth oft ; for God will deign 

To visit oft the dwellings of just men 570 

Delighted, and with frequent intercourse 

Thither will send his winged messengers 

On errands of supernal grace. So sung 

The glorious train as-cending. He through Hea'v'n, 

That open'd Avide her blazing portals, led 57^ 

To God's eternal house direct the Avay : 

A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold. 

And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear. 

Seen in the galaxy, that milky way. 

Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest 580 

Powder'd with stars. And now on earth the seventa 

Ev'ning arose in Eden, tor the sun 

Was set, and twilight from the east came on. 

Forerunning night ; when at the holy mount 

Of Heav'n's high-seated top, th' imperial throne 585 

Of Godhead, fix'd for ever firm a7id sure. 

The Filial Pow'r arrived, and sat him down 

Wnh his great Father (for he also went 

Invisible) yet stay'd (such privilege 

Hath Omnipresence) and the work ordain'd 590 

Author and End of all things, and from work 

Now resting, bless'd and hallov/'d the sev'nth day, 

As resting on that day from all his work. 

But not in silence holy kept : the harp 

Had work and rested not, the solemn pipe, 595 

And dulcimer, all organs of svveet stop. 

All sounds on fret by string or golden wire, 

Temper'd soft tunings, intermix'd with voice 

Choral or unison : of incense clouds 

Fuming from golden censers hid the mount. 600 

Creation and the six days' acts they sung: 

Great are thy works, Jehovah ! infinite 



565. Ps. xxiv. 7. which was suns: when the ark was carried into 
the «anctu;iry of the temple on Mount Sion. 

581. There is a similar expression in Chaucer. 

597. The divisions on the Answer board of a violin are called 
frets, 599- Hev. viii. 3, 4. 



BOOK VII. 179 

Thy pow'r! What thought can measure thee, or 

tong-ue 
Relate thee ! Greater now in thy return 
Than from the giant Angels ! thee that day 605 

Thy thunders magnify'd ! but to create. 
Is greater than created to destroy. 
Who can impair thee, mighty King, or hound 
Thy empire I Easily the proud attempt 
Of Spirits apostate and their counsels vain 610 

Thou hast repell'd, while impiously they thought 
Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw 
The number of thy v/orshippers. Who seeks 
To lessen thee, against his pui-pose serves 
To manifest the naore thy might: his evil 6J6 

Thou usest, and from thence creat'st more good. 
Witness this new-made world, another Heav'n 
From Heav'n-gate not far, founded in view 
On the clear Hyaline, the glassy sea : 
Of amplitude almost immense, with stars 620 

Num'rous, and ev'ry star perhaps a world 
Of destined habitation; but thou know'st 
Their seasons : among these the seat of Men, 
Earth with her nether ocean circumfused, 624 

Their pleasant dwelling-place. Thrice happy Men, 
And sons of Men, whom God hath thus advanced. 
Created in his image, there to dwell 
And worship him, and in reward to rule 
Over his works, on earth, in sea, or air. 
And multiply a race of worshippers 630 

Holy and just ! thrice happy if they know 
Their happiness, and persevere upright ! 
So sung they, and the empyrean rung 
With Halleluiahs. Thus was Sabbath kept. 
And thy request think nov^r fulfill'd, that ask'd 6cS 
How first this world and face of things began. 
And what before thy memory was done 
From the beginning, that posterity 
inform'd by thee might know; if else thou seek'st 
Aught, not surpassing human measure, say. 640 

605. Giant, not in alhision to their stature it is supposed, but 
to their pride and fierceness. 

624. Nelher, to distinguish it from the water? above the firma- 
ment. 



BOOK VIII. 
THE ARGUMENT. 

Adam inquires concerning celestial motions; is doubtfully an- 
rwered, and exhorted to search rather things more worthy of 
knowledg-e: Adam assents : and, still desirous to detain Raphael, 
relates to him what he renembered since his own creation, his 
placing- in Paradise, his talk with God concerning solitude and 
fit society, his first meeting- and nuptials with Eve, his discourse 
with the Angel thereupon ; who, after admonitions repeated, de- 
parts. 

The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear 
So charming left his voice, that he awhile 
Thought him still speaking", still stood iix'd to hear ; 
Then, as new waked, thus gratefully reply'd : 

What thanks sufficient, or what recompense 5 

Equal have I to render thee, divine 
Historian, who thus largely hast all ay 'd 
The thirst I had or knowledge, and vouchsafed 
This friendly condescension to relate 
Tilings else by me unsearchable, now heard 10 

With wonder, but delight, and, as is due^ 
With glory attributed to the High 
Creator 1 Something yet of doubt remains, 
Which only thy solution can resolve. 
When I behold this goodly frame, this world, 15 

Of Heav'n and Earth consisting, and compute 
Their magnitudes ; this earth, a spot, a grain. 
An atom, with the firmament compared 
And all her number'd stars, that seem to roll 
Spaces incomprehensible (for such 20 

Their distance argues, and their swift return 
Diurnal) merely to officiate light 
Round this opacous earth, this punctual spot, 
One day and night, in all their vast survey 

15. Allusion is made in the following- part of the discourse be 
'ween Raphael and Adam, to the two most celebrated systems of 
astronomy, those of Ptolemy and Copernicus : the difference in 
which was, that the former" made the earth, the latter the sun, 
the centre of the universe. Adam speaks in allusion to the 
Ptolemaic system, and the Angel answers by detailing the usual 
explanations forme.rlv given o( the difficulties alleg-ed. 
19.' Numbered, Ps. cxlvii. 4. 



BOOK YIII. ISl 

Useless besides ; reasoning I oft a^vaire 25 

How Nature, wise and frugal, could commit 

Such disproportions, with superfluous hand 

So many nobler bodies to create, 

Greater, so manifold to this one use, 

For aught appears, and on their orbs impoaa 30 

Such restless revolution, day by day 

Repeated, while the sedentary earth, 

That better might with far less compass more, 

Served by more noble than herself, attains 

Her end without least motion, and receives 35 

As tribute, such a sumless journey brought 

Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light ; 

Speed, to describe whose sv/iftness number fails. 

So spake our sire, and by his count'nance seem'd 
Ent'ring on studious thoughts abstruse ; which Eve 
Perceiving where she sat retired in signt, 41 

With lowliness majestic from her seat, 
And grace that won who sav/ to wish her stay. 
Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flow'rs. 
To visit how they prosper'd, bud and bloom, 45 

Her nursei'y : they at her coming sprung. 
And, touch'd by her fair tendence, gladiier grew. 
Yet went she not, as not with such discourse 
Delighted, or not capable her ear 
Of what was high: such pleasure she reserved, 50 
Adam relating, she sole auditress ; 
Her husband, the relator, she preferr'd 
Before the Angel, and of him to ask 
Chose rather. He, she knew, would intermix 
Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute 55 

With conjugal caresses ; from his lip 
Not words alone pleased her. O Avhen meet now 
Such pairs, in loA^e and mutual honour join'd! 
With Goddess-like demeanour forth she went. 
Not unattended, for on her, as queen, 60 

A pomp of winning graces waited still. 
And from about lu^r shot darts of desire 
Into all eyes to wish her still in sight. 
And Raphael, now to Adam's doubt proposed. 
Benevolent and facile, thus reply'd: 65 

To ask or search I blame thee not ; for HeaY*n 
Is «i» the book of God before thee seta 






182 PARADISE LOST. 

(^Wherein to read his wondrous works, and lear^^ 
His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years. 
This to attain, whether Heav'n move or Earth, 76 
Imports not, if thou reckon right : the rest 
From Man or Angel the Great Architect 
Did wisely to conceal, and not divulg-e 
His secrets, to be scann'd by them who ought 
Rather admire : or if they list to try 75 

Conjecture, he his fabric of the Heav'ns. 
Hath left to their disputes, perhaps to move 
His laughter at their quaint opinions wide 
Hereafter, when they come to model Heav'n 
And calculate the stars, how they Mill wield 80 

The mighty frame, how build, unbuild, contrive 
To save appearances, how gird the sphere 
With centric and eccentric scribbled o'er, 
Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb. 

Already by thy reasoning this I guess, 85 

Who art to lead thy oifspring, and supposest 
That bodies bright and greater should not serve 
The less not bright, nor Heav'n such journeys run. 
Earth sitting still, when she alone receives 
The benefit. -^ Consider first, that great 90 

Or bright inf^ not excellence : the earth, 
Though, in comparison of Heav'n, so small, 
Nor glist'ring, may of solid good contain x 

More plenty than the sun that barren shineSji 
Whose virtue on itself works no effect, .^e**^ 95 
But in the fruitful earth ; there first received 
His beams, unactive else, their vigour find. 
Yet not to earth are those bright luminaries 
Officious, but to thee earth's habitant. 
And for the Heav'n's wide circuit, let it speak 100 
The Maker's high magnificence, Avho built 
So spacious, and his line stretch 'd out so far, 
That man may know he dwells not in his own: 
An edifice too large for him to fill. 
Lodged in a small partition, and the rest 105 

80. Calctdate, to observe scientifically. 
83. Centric, or concentric, are spheres whose centre is the same 
with that of the earth. — Eccentric are the contrary. — Cycle is a 
circle, and Epicycle a circle upon a circle. They are terms in- 
vented by the Ptoleraaics, and used in explaining their system. 
102. Job xxviii. 5. 



BOOK VIII. 183 

Ordain'd for usts to his Loi'd l»est known. 

The swiftness of those circles attribute. 

Though numberless, to his omnipotence. 

That to corporeal substances could add J )fi 

Speed almost spiritual. IVIe thou think'st not slow. 

Who since the morning'-houi' set out from Heav'n, 

Where God resides, and ere mid-day arrived 

In Eden, distance inexpressible 

By numbers that have name. But this I urge. 

Admitting- motion in the Heav'ns, to ^hew 115 

Invalid that which thee to doubt it moved ; 

Not that I so affirm, tliough so it seem 

To thee who hast thy dv/elling here on earth. 

God, to remove his ways from human sense, 

Placed Heav'n from Earth so far, that earthly sight, 

If it presume, might err in things too high, 121 

And no advantage gain. What if the sun 

Be centi'e to the world, and other stars, 

By his attractive virtue and their own 

Incited, dance about him various rounds? 125 

Their wand'ring course now high, now Ioav, then hid, 

Progressive, reti'ograde, or standing still, 

In six thou seest, and what if sev'nth to these 

The planet earth, so steadfast though she seem, 

Insensibly three diff'rent motions move ? 130 

Which else to sev'ral spheres thou must asciibe. 

Moved contrary with thwart obliquities, 

Or save the sun his labour, and that swift 

Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb, supposed, 

Invisible else above all stars, the wheel 135 

Of day and night ; which needs not thy belief. 

If earth industrious of herself fetch day 

Travelling east, and with her part averse 

From the sun's beam meet night, her other part 

Still luminous by his ray. What if that light, 140 

Sent from her through the wide transpicuous air, 

To the terrestrial moon, be as a star 

Enlight'ning her by day, as she by night 

This earth 1 reciprocal, if land be there. 

Fields and inhabitants. Her spots thou seest 145 

122. The Copernican system is now mentioned. 
134. Diurnal rhomb, explained in the next Jine, as, the wheel 
of dav and night 



184 PARADISE LOST. 

As clouds, and clouds may rain, and rain produce 
Fruits in her soften'd soil, for some to eat 
Allotted there ; and other suns perhaps 
Wi(h their attendant moons thou wilt descry, 
Communicating male and female light, 150 

Which two great sexes animate the world. 
Stored in each orb perhaps with some that live. 
For such vast room in nature un possess 'd 
By living" soul, desert and desolate, 
Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute 155 

Each orb a glimpse of light, convey'd so far 
Down to this habitable, which returns 
Lig-ht back to them, is obvioiis to dispute. 
But whether thus these things, or whether not ; 
Whether the sun predominant in Heav'n 160 

Rise on the earth, or earth rise on the sun, 
He from the east his iiaming- road begin, 
/Or she from west her silent course advance 
I With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps 
On her soft axle, while she paces even, 165 

And bears thee soft with the smooth air along, 
/ Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid ; j 
\|.4eave them to God above) him serve and fear I 
Of other creatures, as him pleases best. 
Wherever placed, let him dispose : joy thou 170 

In wliat he gives to thee, this Paradise 
And thy fair Eve. Heav'n is for thee too high 
To know what passes there. Be lowly wise : 
Think only what concerns thee and thy being ; 
Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there 173 
Live, in what state, condition, or degree, 
Contented that thus far hath been reveal 'd 
Not of Earth only, but of highest Heav'n. 

To whon> thus Adam, clear'd of doubt, reply 'd : 
How fully hast thou satisfj^'d me, pure 180 

Intelligence of Heav'n, Angel serene. 
And freed from intricacies, taught to live, 
Tlie easiest way ; nor with perplexing thoughts 
To interrupt the sweet of life, from which 

150. The conceit in this line is very old, the sun being said to 
coniraunicate male, the moon female'lii^ht. 

158. Novght, or like, is proposed instead of lighl in this verse, 
but the reasons alleged are hardly sufficient to authorize the 
change. 



BOOK vin. 



385 
185 



God hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares, 
And not molest us, unless we ourselves 
Seek them with wand'ring' thoughts, and notion? 
But apt the mind or fancy is to rove [vain 

Uncheck'd, and of her roving" is no end ; 
Till warn'd, or by experience taught, she learn, 190 
That not to know at large of things remote 
From use, obscui*e and subtle, but to know 
That which before us lies in daily life. 
Is the prime wisdom ; what is more is fume, 
Or emptiness, or fond impertinence, 165 

And renders us in things that most concern 
Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek- 
Therefore from this high pitch let ns descend 
A lower flight, and speak of things at hand 
Useful, whence haply mention may arise 200 

Of something not unseasonable to ask 
By suff'rance, and thy wonted favour deign'd. 
Thee I have heard relating what\vas done 
Ere my remembrance : now hear me I'elate 
My story, which perhaps thou hast not heard; 205 
And day is yet not spent ; till then thou seest 
How subtly to detain thee I devise, 
Inviting- thee to hear while I relate, 
Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply : 
For while I sit with thee, I seem in Heav'n ; 210 
And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear 
Than fruits of palm-tree pleasantest to thirst 
And hunger both, from labour, at the hour 
Of sweet repast : they satiate and soon fill. 
Though pleasant, but thy words, with grace divine 
Imbued, bring to their sweetness no satiety. 216 

To whom thus Raphael answer'd heav'nly meek : 
Nor are thy lips ungraceful. Sire of men. 
Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee 
Abundantly his gifts hath also pour'd 220 

Inward and outward both, his image fair: 
Speaking or mute, all comeliness and grace 

204. There are few passasres in the poem which will be read 
with more pieasiiiij;- sensations, than the relation Adam g-ives of 
his first sensations on his becoiiiini,'' conscious of existence. The 
•ame idea of describino- a iiuman beintr wakeninjac into life in t)ie 
fiili maturity of i:is powers, has been made the subject of a beau- 
tiful little piece ir Buffon. 



ISb PARADISE LOST. 

Attends tliee, and each word, eacli motion forms : 

Nor less think we in Heav'n of thee on Earth 

Than of our fellow-servant, and inquire 225 

Gladly into the ways of God with Man: 

For God, we see, hath honour'd thee, and set 

On Man his equal love : say therefore on ; 

For I that day was absent, as befel, 

Bound on a voyag-e uncouth and obscure, 230 

Far on excursion tow'rd the gates of Hell ; 

Squared in full leg-ion (such command we had) 

To see that none thence issued forth a spy, 

Or enemy, while God was in his v*'ork. 

Lest he, incensed at such eruption bold, 235 

Destruction with ci"eation might have mix'd. 

Not that they durst without his leave attempt, 

But us he sends upon his high behests 

For state, as Sov'reign King, and to inure 

Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut 

The dismal gates, and barricado'd strong ; 241 

But long ere our approaching, heard within 

Noise, other than the sound of dance or song ; 

Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. 

Glad we i-eturn'd up to the coasts of light 245 

Ere Sabbath ev'ning: so we had in charge. 

But thy relation now ; for I attend. 

Pleased with thy words, no less than thou with mine. 

So spake the God-like Pow'r, and thus our sire : 
For Man to tell how human life began 250 

Is hard; for who himself beginning knew? 
Desire with thee still longer to converse 
Induced me. As new waked from soundest sleep, 
Soft on the flowery herb I found me laid 
In balmy sv,7eat, which with his beams the sun 255 
Soon dry'd, and on the reeking moisture fed. 
Straight toward Heav'n ray wond'ring eyes I turn'd, 
And gazed a while the ample sky, till raised 
By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung, 
As thitherward endeav'ring, and upright 260 

Stood on my feet. About me round I saw 
Hill, dale, andi shady woods, and sunny plains, 

223. So the an^el addresses John, Rev. xxii. 9. 
229. The absence of Raphaei was invented to g^ive Adam a fit 
reason for his narrative. 240. Virgil, A'.n. vi. 557. 



BOOK VII L 187 

■ And liquid lapse of raurm'ring streams ; by these, 
i Creatures that lived, and moved, and walk'd,or flew: 
Birds on the branches warbling-: all things smiled; 
With fragrance and with joy my heart fc'ei-ftow'd. 
Myself I then perused, and limb by limb 
Survey'd, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran 
With supple joints, as lively vigour led : 
Biit who I was, or where, or from what cause, 270 
Knew not. To speak I try'd, and forthwith spake ; 
My tongue obey'd, and readily could name 
Whate'er I saw. Thou Sun, said I, fair light, 
And thou enlighten'd Earth, so fresh and g-ay ; 
/ Ye Hills and Dales, ye Rivers, Woods, and Plains, 
' And ye that live and move, fair Creatures, tell, 276 
Tell if ye saw, how came I thus 'I hov/ here 1 
Not of myself : by some great Maker then, 
hi goodness and in pow'r pre-eminent ! 
Tell me, how may I know him, how adore, 280 

From whom I have that thus I move and live. 
And feel that 1 am happier than I know. 
While thus I call'd, and stray'd I knew not whither, 
From where I first drew air, and first beheld 
This happy light, when answer none retiirn'd, 285 
On a green shady bank profuse of flow'rs. 
Pensive I sat me down ; there gentle sleep 
First found me, and with soft oppression seized 
My droused sense, untroubled, though I thought 
I then was passing to my former state 290 

Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve : 
(When suddenly stood at my head a dream, ^ 
Whose inward apparition gently moved 
My fancy to believe I yet had being, 294 

And lived. One came, methought, of shape divine. 
And said. Thy mansion wants thee Adam ; rise. 
First man, of men innumerable ordain'd 
B'irst Father ; call'd by thee, I come thy guide 

266. Wiih fragrance, with a joy like that of nature in spring 
time. 

272. There is no contradiction between thts line and line 352, 
&c. as Warburton asserts: Adam was able to name things generally, 
that is, according to their several kinds of being, as soon as he 
beheld them, but it was by a more immediate inspiration, Milton 
intimates, that he was taught to give names to the several speciea 
of animals, tkc. 



188 PARADISE LOST. 

To the garden of bliss, thy seat i>repared. 

So saying-, by the hand he took me raised, SOC 

And OYer fields and waters, as in air 

Smooth sliding- without step, last led me up 

A woody mountain, whose high top was plain ; 

A circuit wide, inclosed, with g-oodliest trees 301 

Planted, with walks and bow'rs, that what I saw 

Of earth before scarce pleasant seem'd. Each tree 

Loaden with fairest fruit, that hung- to th' eye 

Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite 

To pluck and eat ; whereat I waked, and found 

Before mine eyes all real, as the dream 310 

Had lively shadow'd. Here had new begun 

My wand'ring-, had not he who was my guide 

Up hither, from among the trees appear'd. 

Presence divine. Rejoicing-, but with awe. 

In adoration at his feet I fell 315 

Submiss : he rear'd me', and Whom thou sought'st 

Said mildly ; Author of all this thou seest [I am, 

Above, or round about thee, or beneath. 

This Paradise I give thee : count it thine 

To till and keep, and of the fruit to eat. 320 

Of every tree that in the garden grows 

Eat freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth; 

But of the tree whose operation brings 

Knowledge of good and ill, which I have set 

The pledge of thy obedience and thy faith, 325 

Amid the garden, by the tree of life. 

Remember what I warn thee : Shun to taste, 

And shun the bitter consequence ; for know. 

The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command 

Transgress'd, inevitably thou shalt die ; 330 

From that day mortal, and this happy state 

Shalt lose ; expell'd from hence into a world 

Of woe and sorrow. Sternly he pronounced 

The rigid interdiction, Avhich resounds 

Yet dreadful in mine ear, though in my choice 335 

300. Gen. iii. 15. It is supposed by a sreat number ofconimen 
tators that Adam was not formed in Paradise, but in some othe. 
part of the earth, without the inciosure of the sacred garden, into 
which he was carried by God after his creation. 

i'20. To nil ; to cultivate in any way which the nature of a 

country, or its productions, may require. 

330. Gen. i . 17. 



BOOK VIII. 189 

Not to incur ; but soon his clear aspect 
Return'd, and gracious purpose thus renew'd : 

Not only these fair bounds, but all the earth 
To thee and to thy race I give : as lords 
Possess it, and all things that therein live, 340 

Or live in sea, or air ; beast, fish, and fowl. 
In sign whereof each bird and beast behold 
After their kinds : I bring them to receive 
From thee their names, and pay thee fealty 
With low subjection. Understand the same 345 

Of fish within their wat'ry residence, 
Not hither summon'd, since they cannot change 
Their element to draw the thinner air. 
As thus he spake, each bird and beast behold 
Approaching two and two ; these cow'ring low 350 
With blandishment, each bird stoop'd on his wing. 
I named them as they pass'd, and understood 
Their nature ; with such knowledge God indued 
My sudden apprehension : but in these 
I found not what methought I wanted still , 355 

And to the heav'nly Vision thus presumed : 

O by what name, for thou above all these, 
Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher, 
Surpassest far my naming, how may I 
Adore thee, Author of this universe, 300 

And all this good to man I for whose well being 
So amply, and with hands so liberal 
Thou hast provided all things ! but with me 
I see not vvho partakes. In solitude 
V/hat happiness? Who can enjoy alone, 365 

Or all enjoying-, what contentment find ? 
Thus I presumptuous ; and the Vision bright. 
As with a smiie more brighten'd, thus reply'd : 

What call'st thou solitude '? Is not the earth 
With various living creatures, and the air 370 

Replenish'd ? and all these at thy command 
To come and play before thee 1 Know'st thou not 
Their language and their ways? They also know, 
And I'eason not contemptibly. With these 
Find pastime, and bear rule ; thy realm is large. 
So spake the Universal Lord, and seem'd 376 

So ordering. I, with leave of speech implored, 
342. Gen. ii. 19, 20. 



190 PABADISE LOST 

And liumWe deprecation, thus reply 'd: 

Let not my words offend thee, Heav'nly PoTP'r! 
My Maker, be propitious while I speak! 380 

Hast thou not made me here thy substitute. 
And these inferior far beneath me set ? 
Atnong- unequals what society 
Can sort? what harmony or true delight? 
Which must be mutual, in proportion due 3S5 

Giv'n and received; but in disparity. 
The one intense, the other still remiss 
Cannot Avell suit with either, but soon prove 
Tedious alike : Of fellowship 1 s^eak 
Such as I seek, fit to participate 390 

All rational delight, wherein the brute 
Cannot be human consort : they rejoice 
Each with their kind ; lion with lioness ; 
So fitly them in pairs thou hast combined ; 
Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl 395 
So well converse ; nor with the ox the ape : 
Worse then can man with beast, and least of all. 
Whereto th' Almighty answer'd not displeased : 
A nice and subtle happiness I see 
Thou to thyself propose st in the choice 400 

Of thy associates, Adam, and wilt taste 
No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitary. 
What think'st thou then of me, and this my state ? 
Seem I to thee sufficiently possess'd 
Of happiness, or not, who am alone 405 

From all eternity? for none I know 
Second to me, or like, equal much less. 
How have I then with whom to hold converse 
Save with the creatures which I made ? and those 
To me inferior ! infinite descents 410 

Beneath what other creatures are to thee. 
He ceased ; I lowly answer'd : To attain 
The height and depth of thy eternal ways, 
All human thoughs come short, Supreme of thing's ! 
Thou in thyself art perfect, and in thee 415 

Is no deficience found. Not so is Man, 
But in degree ; the cause of his desire 
By conversation with his like to help, 
Or solace his defects. No need that thou 
413. Rora. xi, 33. 



BOOK VIII 19i 

Should'st propagate, already infinite, 420 

And throug-li all numbers absolute, though one i 

But Man by number is to manifest 

His single imperfection, and beget 

Like of his like, his image multiply 'd 

In unity defective, which requires 425 

Collat'ral love, and dearest amity. 

Thou in thy secrecy, although alone. 

Best with thyself accompany 'd, seek'st not 

Social communication ; yet so pleased. 

Canst raise thy creature to what height thou wilt 430 

Of union or communion, deify'd : 

I by conversing cannot these erect 

From pi'one, nor in their ways complacence find. 

Thus 1 embolden'd spake, and freedom used 

Permissive, and acceptance found; which gain'd 435 

This answer from the gracious voice divine : 

Thus far to try thee, Adam, I was pleased ; 
And find thee knowing not of beasts alone. 
Which thou hast rightly named, biit of thyself; 
Expressing well the spirit within thee free, 440 

My image not imparted to the brute. 
Whose fellowship therefore unmeet for thee. 
Good reason was thou freely should'st dislike : 
And be so minded still. I, ere thou spak'st, 
Knew it not good for Man to be alone; 445 

And no such company as then thou saw'st 
Intended thee ; for trial only brought. 
To see how thou could st judge of fit and meet. 
What next I bring* shall please thee, be assured ; 
Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self, 450 

Thy wish exactly to thy heart's desii'e. 

He ended, or I heard no more, for now 
My earthly by his heav'nly overpower'd. 
Which it had long stood under, strain 'd to th' highth 
In that celestial colloquy sublime, 455 

As with an object that excels the sense 
Dazzled and spent, sunk down, and sought repair 
Of sleep, which instantly fell on me, call'd 
By nature as in aid, and closed mine eyes. 
Mine eyes he closed, but open left the cell 460 

421. And throri^hf Iscc. perfect, complete in all its parts. 
453. A beautiful idea to express the cause of Ailarn'g deep SiCep. 

o 



192 PARADISE LfJST. 

Of fancy, my internal sight; by Avhich 

Abstract, as in a trance, methought I saw, 

Though sleeping-, where I lay, and saw the shape 

Still g-lorious before whom awake I stood; 

Who, stooping-, open'd my left side, and took 405 

From thence a rib, with cordial spii-its v^arra, 

And life-blood streaming- fresh ; wide was the wound ; 

B-at suddenly with flesh iill'd up, and heal'd, 

The rib he form'd and fashion'd with his hands: 

Under his forming- hands a creatui-e grew, 470 

Manlike, but different sex ; so lovely fair, 

That what seem'd fair in all the world, seem'd now 

Mean, or in her summ'd up, in her contain'd, 

And in her looks ; which from that time infused 

Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before ; 475 

And into all things from her air inspired 

The spirit of love and amorous delight. 

She disappear'd, and left me dark. I waked 

To find her, or for ever to deplore 

Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure : 480 

When, oat of hope, behold her, not far off, 

S-ach as I saw her in my dream, adorn'd 

With what all Earth or Heaven could bestow 

To make her amiable! On she came, 

Led by her Heav'nly Maker, though unseen 485 

Aiid guided by his voice ; nor uninform'd 

Of nuptial sanctity and marriag-e rites. 

Grace was in all her steps ! Heav'n in her eye ! 

In ev'ry gesture dignity and love J 

I overjoy'd, could not forbear aloud: 400 

This turn hath made amends ! Thou hast fulfill'd 
Thy words, Creator bounteous and benign. 
Giver of all things fair, but fairest this 
Of all thy gifts, norenviest! T now see 
Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, myself 495 

Before me ! Woman is her name ; of Man 
Extracted. For this cause he shall forego 
Father and mother, and to' his wife adhere : 
And they shall be one flesh, one heart, one soul. 

She heard me thus ; and tho' divinely brought^ 500 

4G2. Ahstract ; that is, the spirit was so separated from the 
(lody tliat it did not see things as before with its material orjjans 
ef vision. 

485. Gen. ii. 22. 198. Gen. xxui. 24. 



BOOK VIII. 193 

Yet iimocenoe and virgin modesty. 

Her virtue, and tlie conscience of her worth, 

That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won, 

Not obvious, no't obtrusive, but retired, 

Tlie more desii:able ; or to say all, 505 

Nature hers%lf, though pure of sinful thought. 

Wrought in her so, that seeing me, she turn'd. 

1 foUow'd her : she what was honour knew, 

A.nd with obsequious majesty approved 

My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower 510 

I led her, blushing like the morn. All Heav'n, 

And happy constellations on that hour 

Shed their selectest influence 1 The earth 

v]Iave sign of gratulation, and each hill ! 

Joyous the birds ; fresh gales and gentle airs 515 

Wliisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings 

Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub. 

Disporting, till the amorous bird of night 

Sung spousal, and bid haste the ev'ning star 

On his hill-top, to light the bridal lamp. 520 

Thus have I told thee all my state, and brought 
My story to the sum of earthly bliss 
Which 1 enjoy ; and must confess to find 
In all things else delight indeed, but such 
As used or not, works in the mind no change, 525 
Nor vehement desire ; these delicacies 
I mean of taste, sight, smell, herbs, fruits, and flow'rs, 
Walks, and the melody of birds ; but here 
Far otherwise, transported I behold. 
Transported touch. Here passion first I felt, 530 

Commotion strange, in all enjoyments else 
Superior and unmoved ; here only weak 
Against the charm of beauty's pow'rful glance. 
Or nature fail'd in me, and left some part 
Not proof enough such object to sustain ; 535 

Or from my side subducting-, took perhaps 
More than enough : at least on her bestow'd 
Too much of ornament ; in outward show 
Elaborate ; of inward, less exact. 

502. The conscience ; the knowledge of. 

513. Taken from Homer, 11. xiv. 347. 

520. It was the custom of the ancients to light their bridal laaip; 

when the evening- star apoeared. 

K 



194 PARADISE LOST. 

For well I understand, in the priisie end 540 

Of nature, her th' inferior m the mind 

And inward faculties^ which most excel 

In outward ; also her resembling less 

His image who made both, and less ez^Dressing 

The character of that dominion g-iv'n 545 

O'er other creatures ; yet, when I approach 

Her loveliness, so absolute she seems. 

And in herself, complete ; so well to knov/ 

Her own, that what she wills to do or say. 

Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best ! 550 

All higher knov/ledge in her presence falls 

Degraded! Wisdom in discourse with her 

Loses, discount'nanced, and like folly shews. 

Authority and reason on her wait. 

As one intended first, not after made »i55 

Occasionally ; and to consummate all. 

Greatness of Mmd and Nobleness their seat 

Build in her, loveliest, and create an awe 

About her, as a guard angelic placed! 

To whom the Angel, with contracted brow : 560 
Accuse not Nature; she hath done her part: 
Do thou but thine, and be not diffident 
Of wisdom ; she deserts thee not, if thou 
Dismiss not her, when most thou need'st her nigh. 
By attributing overmuch to things 565 

Less excellent, as thou thyself perceiv'st. 
For what admir'st thou? what transports thee so? 
An outside ? Fair no doubt, and worthy well 
Thy cherishing, thy hoiiouring, and thy love ; 
Not thy subjection. Weigh with her thyself, 570 
Then value. Oft-times nothing profits more 
Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right 
Well managed. Of that skill the more thou know'st. 
The more she will acknowledge thee her head, 
And to realities yield all her shows ; 575 

Made so adorn for thy delight the more. 
So awful, that with honour thou may'st love 
Thy mate, who sees when thou art seen least wise. 

547. Absolute ; complete, as used in the former instance, line 421. 
568. Eph. V. 28, 29. 

576. Adorn, for adorn'd,to avoid the inharmonions sound of the 
iatter with the word made.— It is thus used, zs/ledge tor fledged^ 
and comes from the Italian adjective adorno. 



BOOK VIII. 195 

Rut if the sense of touch, whereby rnankmd 

In propag-ated, seem such dear delight 580 

Beyond all other, think the sarae vouchsafed 

To cattle and each heast ; v/hich would not be 

To them made comm.on and divulged, if aught 

Therein enjoy'd were worthy to subdue 

The soul of man, or passion in him move. 585 

What higher in her society thou find'st 

Attractive, human, rational, love still. 

In loving thou dost well, in passion not. 

Wherein true love consists not. Love refines 

The thoughts, and heart enlarges ; hath his seat 590 

In reason, and is judicious; is the scale 

By which to heav'nly love thou may'st ascend, 

Not sunk in carnal pleasure : for which cause 

Among the beasts no mate for thee was found. 

To whom thus, half abash'd, Adam reply'd : 595 
Neither her outside, form'd so fair, nor aught 
In procreation, common to all kinds, 
(Though higher of the genial bed by far. 
And v/ith mysterious reverence I deem) 
So much delights me as those graceful acts, COO 

Those thousand decencies, that daily flow 
From all her words and actions, mix'd with love 
And sweet compliance ; which declare unfeign'd 
Union of mind, or in us both one soul: 
Harmony to behold in wedded pair, 605 

More grateful than harmonious sound to th' ear. 
Yet these subject not : I to thee disclose 
What inward thence I feel, not therefore foil'd, 
Who meet with various objects, from the sense 
Variously representing ; yet, still free, 610 

Approve the best, and follow what I approve. 
To love thou blam'st me not; for love thoTi say'st 
Leads up to Heav'n ; is both the way and guide. 
Bear with me then, if lawful what I ask: 
Love not the heav'nly Spirits'? and how their love 
Express they 1 by looks only* 1 or do they mix 616 
Irradiance, virtual or immediate touch ? 

To Vv'hom the Angel, with a smile that glow'd 
Celestial rosy red (love's proper hue), 

5S9. it is supposed that Milton E ludesin this passage tc Plato's 
theory of divine love. 



1 96 PARADISE LOST. 

Answer'd: Let it suffice thee that thou kiiow'st 620 

Us happy'; and without love no happiness. 

Whatever pure tliou iji the body' eiijoy'st 

(And pure thou wert created) we enjoy 

In eminence, and obstacle liud none 

Of membrane, joint, or limb, exclusive bars. 626 

Easier than air with air, if Spirits embrace, 

Total they mix, union of pure with puj-e 

Desiring ; not restrain'd conveyance need, 

As flesh to mix with flesh, or soul with soul. 

But I can now no more; the parting sun 630 

Beyond the earth's green cape and verdant isles 

Hesperian, sets, my signal to depart. 

Be strong, live liappy', and love, but first of all. 

Him whom to love is to obey, and keep 

His great command : take heed lest passion sway 035 

Thy judgment to do aught which else free will 

Would not admit ; thine and of all thy sons 

The weal or woe in thee is placed ; beware. 

1 in thy persevering shall rejoice; 

And all the Blest- Stand fast ; to stand or fall 610 

Free in thine own arbitrement it lies. 

Perfect within, no outward aid require; 

And all temptation to transgress repel. 

So saying, he arose ; whom Adam thus 
Follow'd with benediction : Since to part, 645 

Go heav'nly Guest, ethereal Messenger, 
Sent from whose sov 'reign goodness I adore. 
Gentle to me and affable liath been 
Thy condescension, and shall be honour'd ever 
With grateful memory ; thou to mankind 650 

Be good and friendly still, and oft return. 

So parted they ; the Angel up to Heav'n 
From the thick shade, and Adam to his bower. 

634. 1 John V. 3. 
645. Benediction ; not signifying blessing, bat fareivell. 
658. Uis bower, that is, his inmost bower or Pbce of rest. 



BOOK IX. 
THE ARGUMENT. 

Satan, having compassed tlie earth with meditated gnilCf re- 
turns as a mist by nisrht into Paradise, erfers into the serpent 
sleepinsr. Adam and Eve in the moruint? g-o forth to their iabours, 
which tve proposes to divide in several places, each labouring 
apart: Adam consents not, alleg-ing the dang'er, lest that enemy, 
of whom they were forewarned, should attempt her, found alone; 
Eve, loath to' be thousfht not circumspect or firm enoug-h, urg-es 
her g:oing apart, the rather desirous to make trial of her strength : 
Adam at last yields: The Serpent finds her alone; his subtle ap 
proach, first gaziiii,'-, then speaking', with much flattery extolling 
Eve above all other creatures. Eve wondering- to hear the Ser- 
pent speak, asks how he attained to human speech and such un- 
derstanding- not till now: the Serpent answers, that by tasting- of 
a certain tree in the garden he attained both to speech and rea 
son ; till then void of both : Eve requires him to bring her to that 
tree, and finds it to be the tree ot knowledge, forbidden: The 
Serpent, now grown bolder, with many wiles and arg'unseiits, in 
duces her at lenuth to eat; she, pleased with the taste, delibe- 
rates a wliile whether to impart thereof to Adam or not, at last 
brings him of the fruit, relates what persuaded her to eat thereof: 
Adam, at first amazed, hut perceiving her lost, resolves, through 
vehemence of love, to perish with her ; and extenuating the tres- 
pass, eats also of the fruit: The effects tliereof in them both; 
they seek to cover their nakedness ; then fall to variance and 
accusation of one another. 

No more of talk where God or Aiig-el guest 

With Man, as with his friend, familiar used 

To sit indulgent, and with him partake 

Rural repast, permitting- him the while 

Venial discourse, unblamed : I noAV must change 5 

Those notes to tragic ; foul distrust, and breach 

Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt. 

And disobedience : on the part of Heav'n 

Now alienated, distance and distaste. 

Anger and just rebuke, and judgment given, 1,0 

That brought into this world a world of woe. 

Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery, 

I. Milton has arranged the divisions of his poem with great 
skill. The reader is by turns filled with awe and delight, astonish- 
ment and wonder : after havin-g been terror-stricken at the sub- 
lime account of the fall of the angels, he is charmed and soothed 
by the description of Paradise, and the sweet discourse of philo- 
sophy, carried on between Raphael and Adam. A new order of 
feelings are now to be awakened, and pity, mingled with fear, 
possesses us through the whole book. 

II. Nothing can" be in worse taste than this and other such 
puns ; but not a great poet is perhaps to be found, with a taste 
60 pure, that it could resist altogether the corruptions of the 
popular one. 



108 PAHADISK LOST. 

Death's harbinger. Sad task I yet arg-ument 

Not less bat more heroic than the wrath 

Of stern Achilles on bis foe pursued 15 

Thrice fugitive about Troy wall ; or rage 

Of Tarnus for Lavinia disespoused, 

Or Neptune's ire or Juno's, that so long 

Perplex/d the Greek and Cytherea's son: 

If answerable style I can obtain 20 

Of my celestial patroness, who deigns 

Her nig'htly visitation unimplored, 

And dictates to me slumb'ring-, or inspires 

Easy my unpremeditated verse. 

Since first this subject for }ieroic song 25 

Pleased me long choosing, and beginning late ; 

Not sedulous by nature to indite 

Wars, hitherto the only argument 

Heroic deem'd, chief raast'ry to dissect 

With long and tedious havoc fabled knights 30 

In battles feign 'd ; the better fortitude 

Of patience and heroic martyrdom 

Unsung ; or to describe races and games, 

Or tilting furniture, emblazon'd shields, 

Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds ; 35 

Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights 

At joust and tournament ; then marshal'd feast 

Served up in hall with sewers and seneschals ; 

The skill of artifice or office mean, 

Not that which justly gives heroic name 40 

To person or to poem. Me of these 

Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument 

21. The picture of Milton, which here rises to the inind, is 
among' the most beautiful of the visions to which the poem gives 
birth. Blind, deserted, but inspired, how like a character in the 
work does he seem to the imao-ination, while thus speaking of his 
communion with the heavenly muse. 

26. He had, long before commencing Paradise Lost, or design- 
ing it even, determined to write an Epic on the subject of King 
Arthur's history. 

28. Allusion is made in this passage to the principal Epics, the 
Bubjects of which are almost all drawn from the wars of one 
coiinlry or the other. The most ardent lover of t!ie classic poems 
cannot but feel Milton's objection to be correct: ; the only caution 
to be observed, is, not to mistake his dislike of their subjects for any 
depreciation of the sublime geniuses which composed them. 

35. Impresses quaint ; witty di'Aicea on the shields — Bases, OT 
housings. — Setvers, servants who placed the dishes on the table, 
— Seneschal, a principal servant, or steward. 



book: IX. 199 

Remains, sufficient of itself to raise 

That name, unless an age too late, or cold 

Climate, or years, damp my intended wing 45 

Depress'd, and much they may, if ail be mine, 

Nut iiers who brings it nightly to my ear. 

The sun was sunk, and after him the star 
Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring 
Twilight upon the earth, short arbiter 50 

'Twixt day and night, and now from end to end 
Night's hemisphere had veil'd th' horizon round, 
When Satan, Avho late fled before the threats 
Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improved 
In meditated fraud and malice, bent 55 

On Man's destruction, maugre what might hap 
Df heavier on himself, fearless returned. 
By night he fled, and at midnight returned 
From compassing the earth, cautious of day, 60 

Since Uriel, regent of the sun, descry'd 
His entrance, and forewarn'd the Cherubim 
That kept their watch : thence fall of anguish driven. 
The space of sev'n continued nights he rode 
With darkness ; thrice the equinoctial line 
He circled ; four times cross'd the car of night 65 
From pole to pole, traversing each coliire ; 
On th' eighth return'd, and on the coast averse 
From entrance or Cherubic watch, by stealth 
Found unsuspected way. There was a place. 
Now not, tho' sin, not time, first wrought the change. 
Where Tigris at the foot of Paradise 71 

Into a gulf shot under ground, till part 
Rose up a fountain by the tree of life : 
In with the river sunk, and with it rose 
Satan involved in rising mist, then sought 75 

Where to lie hid. Sea he had search'd and land 
From Eden over Pontus, and the pool 
Mseotis, up beyond the river Ob ; 
Downward as far antarctic ; and in length 
West from Orontes to the ocean barr'd 80 

A.t Darien, thence to the land where flows 

77. PontTis, the Eiixine or Black Sea,— r/?e pool MoBoth, Palua 
Maeotis, a lake on the coast of Crim Tartary.— 0&, a river of 
Muscovy. — Orontes, a river of Syria.— Oaricji, the Isthmus which 
loins North and South America.— Oceaji barred, see Job xxxviii, 19* 



200 PARADISE LOST. 

Ganges and Indus : thus the orb lie roam'd 

With narrow search, and with inspection deep 

Consider'd every creature ; which of all 

Most opportune mig-ht serve his wiles, and found 85 

The serpent subtlest beast of all the field. 

Him, after long- debate, irresolute 

Of thoughts revolved, his final sentence chose 

Fit vessel, fittest imp of fraud, in whom 

To enter and his dark sug-gestions hide 90 

From sharpest sig-ht : for in the wily snake, 

Whatever sleights none would suspicious mark, 

As from his wit and native subtlety 

Proceeding', which in other beasts observed 

Doubt might beg'et of diabolic power 95 

Active within beyond the sense of brute. 

Thus he resolved ; but first from inward grief 

His bursting passion into plaints thus pour'd : 

O Earth, how like to Heav'n, if not prefen'd 
More justly! seat worthier of Gods! as built 100 

With second thoughts, reforming what was old ! 
For what God after better worse would build ! 
Terrestrial Heav'n, danced round by other Heav'ns 
That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps. 
Light above light, for thee alone, as seems, 105 

In thee concentring all their precious beams 
Of sacred influence ! As God in Heav'n 
Is centre, yet extends to all, so thou 
Centring receiv'st from all those orbs ; in thee, 
Not in themselves, all their known virtue' appears 
Productive in herb, plant, and nobler birth IH 

Of creatures animate with gradual life 
Of growth, sense, reason, all summ'd up in Man. 
With what delight could I have walk'd thee round, 

86. The subtlety of the serpent has been always noticed. It is 
supposed, that Satan might choose this aninialin preference to 
any other, for his purpose, since its subtlety being- known it 
would excite less surprise in the minds of his victims, to find it 
fspeaking- and reasoning-, than would ha-ve been ti)e case in respect 
to any other of the beasts of the field. 

113. It were to be wished that Milton had not so nearly ap- 
proached in expression the ideas of the materialists. He has 
been accused of formally supporting their doctrines, but the 
contents of the poem and the elevation of his sentiments on the 
mysteries of universal being tend greatly to prove he was by no 
means an advocate of opinions wliich are as insupportable by 
reason as they are by Christianity^ 



BOOK XI. 201 

If J could joy in auglit, sweel interchange 115 

Of hill and valley, i-ivers, woods and plains; 
Now land, now sea, and shores with forests crown'd 
Rocks, dens, and caves ! but I in none of these 
Find place or refug-e ; and the more I see 
Pleasures about me, so much more I feel 120 

Torment within me', as from the hateful siege 
Of contraries : all g-ood to me becomes 
Bane, and in Heav'n much worse would be my state. 
But neither here seek I, no, nor in Heav'n 
To dwell, unless by mast'ring Heav'n's Supreme ; 
Nor hope to bo myself less miserable 126 

By what I seek, but others to make such 
As I, though thereby worse to me redound : 
For only in destroying I find ease 
To my relentless thoughts ; and him destroy'd, 130 
Or won to what may work his utter loss, 
For whom all this was made, all this will soon 
Follow, as to him link'd in weal or woe ; 
In woe then, that destruction wide may range. 
To me shall be the glory sole among 135 

Th' infernal Pow'rs, in one day to have marr'd 
What he. Almighty styled, six nights and days 
Continued making, and who knows how long 
Before had been contriving, though j)erhaps 
Not longer than since I in one night fi'eed 140 

Froni servitude inglorious well nigh half 
Th' angelic name, and thinner left the throng* 
Of his adorers; he to be avenged. 
And to repair his numbers thus impair'd. 
Whether such virtue spent of old now fail'd 145 

More Angels to create, if they at least 
Are his created, or to spite us more. 
Determined to advance into our room 
A creature form'd of earth, and him endow, 150 

Exalted from so base original, 

With heav'nly spoils, our spoils. What he decreed 
He' effected ; Man he made, and for him built 
Magnificent this world, and earth his seat. 
Him lord pronounced, and, O indignity ! 
Subjected to his service Angel wings, 123 

And flaming ministers, to watch and tend 

156. Ps. civ. 4. 



202 PARADISTi: LOST. 

Their earthly charge. Of these the rigilance 

I dread, and to elude, thus wrapt in mist 

Of midnight vapour, glide obscure, and pry 

In ev'ry bush and brake, where hap may find 100 

The serpent sleeping-, in whose mazy folds 

To hide me, and the dark intent I bi-ing. 

O foul descent ! that 1, who erst contended 

With Gods to sit the high'st, am now constrain'd 

Into a beast, and mix'd with bestial slime, 105 

This essence to incarnate and imbrute, 

That to the heig-ht of deity aspired ! 

But what will not ambition and revenge 

Descend to 1 Who aspires must down as low 

As high he soar'd, obnoxious first or last 170 

To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet, 

Bitter ere long back on itself recoils. 

Let it : I reck not, so it light Avell aim'd. 

Since higher I fall short, on him who next 

Provokes my envy, this new fuv'rite 175 

Of Heav'n, this man of clay, son of despite. 

Whom us the more to spite his Maker raised 

From dust. Spite then with spite is best repaid. 

So saying, through each thicket dank or dry. 
Like a black mist low creeping, he held on 180 

His miduight search, where soonest he might find 
The serpent : him fast sleeping soon he found, 
In labyrinth of many a round self roU'd, 
His head the midst, well stored with subtle wiles : 
ISor yet in horrid shade or dismal den, 185 

Nor nocent yet, but on the grassy herb 
Fearless, unfear'd, he slept. In at his mouth 
The devil enter'd, and his brutal sense, 
In heart or head, possessing soon inspired 
With act intelligential ; but his sleep 190 

Distnrb'd not, waiting close th' approach of mom. 

Now when as sacred light began to dawn 
In Eden on the humid flow'rs,that breathed 

173. The character of Satan is finelv managed in this passage ; 
the darkness of despair is made nio'rt Jark by t'ne loftiness of 
thoug-ht and the g-leani of arrh-ungel grandeur still remaining. 
186. iVo/ nocevtyet, in the first edition. 
192. This is the morning- of the ninth day. On the first Satan 
came to the earth ; for seven he was vovas"ini»' round it, and is 
here represented as entering- Paradise on the ninth. 
193. Breath, like the Latin ':piro. 



BOOK IX. 203 

Their morning incense, when all things that breathe, 
From th' earth's great altar send up silent praise 
To the Creator, and his nostrils fill 196 

With g-rateful smell, forth came the human pair. 
And join'd their vocal worship to the choir 
Of creatures wanting voice : that done partake 
The season, prime for sweetest sents and airs ; 200 
Then commune how that day they hest may ply 
Their growing work : for much their work outgrew 
The hands dispatch of two gard'ning so wide : 
And Eve first to her husband thus began : 

Adam, well may we labour still to dress 205 

This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flow'r. 
Our pleasant task enjoin'd ; but till more hands 
Aid us, the work under our labour grows, 
Luxurious by restraint ; what w« by day 
Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind, 210 

One night or two with wanton growth derides 
Tending to wild. Thou therefore now advise. 
Or hear what to my mind first thoughts present : 
Let us divide our labours ; thou where choice 
Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind 
The woodbine round this arbour, or direct 216 

The clasping ivy where to climb ; while I 
In yonder spring of roses, intermix'd 
With myrtle, find what to redress till noon : 
For while so near each other thus all day 220 

Our task we choose, what wonder if so near 
Looks intervene and smiles, or object new 
Casual discourse draw on, which intermits 
Our day's work brought to little, though begun 
Early, and th' hour of supper comes unearn'd. 225 

To whom mild answer Adam thus return 'd : 
Sole Eve, associate sole ; to me beyond 
Compare above all living creatures dear. 
Well hast thou motion'd, well thy thoughts employ'd 
How we might best fulfil the work which here 230 
God hath assign'd us ; nor of me shalt pass 



200. Milton spells scent without the c, according to the 
Italian Sentiendo. 
213. Z?ear instead of hear^ in some editions. 
228. Compare for comparison ; a verb converted into a noun a^ 
adjectives sometimes are. 



204 PARADISE LOST. 

Unpraised : for nothing- lovelier can be found 
In v\roman, than to study household good. 
And good works in her husband to promote. 
Yet not so strictly hath our Lord imposed 23fi 

Labour, as to debar us Avhen we need 
Refreshment, whether food, or talk between, 
(Food of the mind) or this sweet intercourse 
Of looks and smiles (for smiles from reason flow) 
To brute deny'd, and are of love the food ; 240 

Love not the lowest end of human life. 
For not to irksome toil, but to delight 
He made us, and delight to reason join'd. 
These paths and bow'rs doubt not but oiir joint hands 
Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide 245 
As we need walk, till younger hands ere long- 
Assist us ; but if much converse perhaps 
Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield ; 
For solitude sometimes is best society, 
And short retirement ui-ges sweet return. 250 

But other doubt possesses me, lest harm 
Befall thee, severed from me ; for thou know'st 
What hath been warn'd us ; what malicious foe. 
Envying oiir happiness, and of his ov/n 
Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame 255 
By sly assault ; and somewhere nigh at hand 
Watches, no doubt, Avith greedy hope to find 
His wish and best advantage, us asunder. 
Hopeless to circumvent iis join'd, where each 
To other speedy aid might lend at need. 260 

Whether his first design be to withdraw 
Our fealty from God, or to disturb 
Conjugal love, than which perhaps no bliss 
Enjoy 'd by us excites his envy more ; 
Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side 265 

That gave thee being, still shades thee, and protects. 
The wife, v/here danger or dishonour lurks. 
Safest and seemliest by her husband stays ; 
Who guards her, or with her the worst endures. 

To whom the virgin majesty of Eve, 270 

As one who loves, and some unkindness meets. 
With sweet austere composure thus reply'd : 

Offspring of Heav'n and Earth, and all Earth's 
That such an enemy we have, who seeks [Lordf 



BOOK IX. 205 

Our ruin, both by thee inform'd I leani, 275 

And from the parting- Angel overheard, 

As in a shady nook I stood behind. 

Just then return'd at shut of ev'ning flow'rs. 

But that thou should'st my firmness therefore doubt 

To God or thee, because we have a foe 280 

May tempt it, I expected not to hear^ 

His violence thou fear'st not, being such 

As we, not capable of death or pain. 

Can either not receive, or can repel. 

His fraud is then thy fear ; which plain infers 285 

I'hy equal fear that my firm faith and love 

Can by his fraud be shaken or seduced? [breast. 

Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy 

Adam, mis-thought of her to thee so dear ? 

To whom with healing words Adam reply'd : 290 
Daughter of God and Man, immortal Eve, 
For such thou art, from sin and blame entire ; 
Not diffident of thee do I dissuade 
Thy absence from my sight, but to avoid 
Th attempt itself, intended by our foe. 295 

For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses 
The tempted with dishonour foul, supjjosed 
W ot incorruptible of faith, not proof 
Against temptation. Thou thyself with scorn 
And anger would'st resent the ofFer'd wrong, 300 
Though ineiFectual found : misdeem not then. 
If such affront I labour to avert 
From thee alone, which on us both at once 
The enemy, though bold, will hardly dare. 
Or daring, first on me th' assault shall light. 305 
Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn ; 
Subtle he needs must be who could seduce 
Angels ; nor think superfluous other's aid. 
I from the influence of thy looks receive 
Access in ev'ry virtue ; in thy sight 310 

More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were 
Of outward strength ; while shame, thou looking on. 
Shame to be overcome or over-reach'd 
Would utmost vigour raise, and raised unite. 
Why should'st not thou like sense within thee feel 

278. Nothin? can be more beautifully natural than the hour of 
return beiu^ fixed by the closing of the flowers. 



206 PAKADISE LOST. 

When I am present, and thy trial choose 310 

With me, best witness of thy virtue try'd 1 

So spake domestic Adam, in his care 
And matrimonial love : but Eve, who thought 
Less attributed to her faith sincere, 320 

Thus her reply v/ith accent sweet renew'd : 

If this be our condition, thus to dwell 
In narrow circuit straighten'd by a foe. 
Subtle or violent, we not endued 
Single with like defence, wherever met, 325 

How are we happy, still in fear of harm 1 
But harm precedes not sin : only our foe 
Tempting, affronts us with his foul esteem 
Of our integrity : his foul esteem 
Sticks no dishonour on our front, but turns 330 

Foul on himself : then wherefore shunn'd or fear'd 
By us 1 who ratlier double honour gain 
From his surmise proved false, find peace within. 
Favour from Heav'n, our witness from th' event. 
And what is faith, love, virtue unassay'd 335 

Alone, without exterior help sustained 1 
Let us not then suspect our happy state 
Left so imperfect by the Maker wise. 
As not secure to single or combined. 
Frail is our happiness, if this be so, 340 

And Eden were no Eden thus exposed. 

To whom thus Adam fervently reply 'd : 
O Woman, best are all things as the will 
Of God ordain'd them ; his creating hand 
Nothing imperfect or deficient left 345 

Of all that he created, much less Man, 
Or aught that might his happy state secure, 
Secui'e from outward force. Within himself 
The danger lies, yet lies within his pow'r : 
Against his will he can receive no harm. 350 

But God left free the will ; for what obeys 
Reason is free, and reason he made right ; 
But bid her well be ware, and still erect, 
Lest by some fair appearing good surprised. 
She dictate false, and misinform the will 355 

To do what God expressly hath forbid. 

S53. Be warCf two words ware being an adjective as well as 



BOOK IX. 207 

Not then n).istrust but tender love enjoins, 

That I should mind thee oft ; and mind thoa me. 

Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve, 

Since reason not impossibly may meet 300 

Some specious object by the foe suborn'd, 

And fall into deception unaware. 

Not keeping- strictest watch, as she was warn'd. 

Seek not temptation then ; which to avoid 

Were better, and most likely if from me 365 

Thou sever not : trial will come unsought. 

Would'st thou approve thy constancy, approve 

First thy obedience ; th' other who can know, 

Not seeing thee attempted, who attest 1 

But if thou think, trial unsought may nnd 370 

Us both securer than thus warn'd tho^i seem'st, 

Go ; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more. 

Go, in thy native innocence, rely 

On what tliou hast of virtue, summon all, 374 

For God tow'rds thee hath done his part ; do thine. 

So spake the patriarch of mankind : but Eve 
Persisted, yet submiss, though last, reply'd : 

With thy permission then, and thus forev/arn'd 
Chiefiy by what thy own last reas'ning- words 
Touch'd only, that our trial, when least sought, 380 
May find us both perhaps far less prepared, 
The willinger I go ; nor much expect 
A foe so proud will first the weaker seek : 
So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse. 3S4 

Thus saying', from her husband's hand her hand 
Soft she withdrew, and, like a Wood- Nymph light, 
Oread, or Dryad, or of Delia's train. 
Betook her to the groves ; but Delia's self 
In gait surpass'd, and Goddess-like deport, 
Though not as she v/ith bow and quiver arm'd, 390 
But with such g-ard'ning- tools as art yet rude. 
Guiltless of fire, had form'd, or Angels brought. 
To Pales, or Pomona, thus adorn'd, 
Likest she seem'd ; Pomona when she fled 
Yertumnus, or to Ceres in her prime, 395 

Yet virgin of Proserpina from Jove. 
Her long- with ardent look his eye pursued. 
Delighted ; but desiring more her stay. 
396. Virgin of Proserfina, a Grecism.— Theocritus, Tdyl ii. 136 

r 



208 PARADISE LOST. 

Oft he to her liis charge of quick return 
Repeated ; she to him as oft engaged 409 

To be return'd by noon amid the bow'r. 
And all things in best order to invite 
Noontide repast, or afternoon's repose. 
/O much deceived, much failing-, hapless Eve, 
/ Of thy presumed return ! event perverse ! 405 

I Thou never from that hour in Paradise 
\ Found'st either sweet repast or sound repose ! 
^*Such ambush hid among SAveet liow'rs and shades 
Waited with hellish rancour imminent 
To intercept thy way, or send thee back 410 

Despoil'd of innocence, of faith, of bliss. 
For now, and since first break of dawn, the Fiend, 
Mere serpent in appearance, forth was come, 
And on his quest, where likeliest he might find 
The only two of mankind, but in them 415 

The whole included race ; his purposed prey. 
In bow'r and field he sought, where any tuft 
Of grove or garden-plot more pleasant lay. 
Their tendence or plantation for delight : 
By fountain, or by shady rivulet 420 

He sought them both ; but wish'd his hap might find 
Eve separate ; he wish'd, but not with hope 
Of what so seldom chanced, when to his wish. 
Beyond his hope, Eve separate he spies, 
Veii'd in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood, 425 
Half spy'd, so thick the roses blushing round 
About her glow'd, oft stooping to support 
Each flow'r of slender stalk, whose head, though gay 
Carnation, purple', azure, or speck'd with gold. 
Hung drooping unsustain'd : them she upstays 430 
Gently with myrtle band, mindless the while 
Herself, though fairest unsupported fiow'r, 

torn her best prop so far, and storm so nigh, 
iarer he drew ; and many a walk traversed 
Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm, 435 

Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen 
Among thick-woven arborets and flow'rs 
Imborder'd on each bank, the hand of Eve : 
Spot more delicious than those gardens feign'd 

438. Imbo7-der*d, from the old word to imborder, rfnce made 
inbroider. 



BOOK IX. 20S 

Or of revived Adorns, or renown'd 440 

Alcinous, host of old Laertes' son, 

Or that, not mystic, where the sapient king' 

Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse. 

Much he the place admired ; the person more. 

As one who long in populous city pentj, 4.43 

Where houses thick, and sewers annoy the air, 

Forth issuing- on a summer's morn to breathe 

Among- the pleasant villages and farms 

Adjoin'd, from each thing" met conceives delig'bt; 

The smell of g-rain, or tedded g-rass, or kine, 450 

Or dairy', each rural sight, each rural sound : 

If chance with nympli-like step fair virgin pass, 

What pleasing- seeni'd, for her now pleases more, 

She most, and in her look sums all delight. 

Such pleasure took the Serpent to behold 455 

This ilow'ry plat, the sweet recess of Eve 

Thus early, thus alone. Her heav'nly form 

Ang-elic, but more soft and feminine. 

Her graceful innocence, her ev'ry air 

Of g-esture or least action, overawed 460 

His malice, and witli rapine sweet bereaved 

His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought. 

That space the Evil One abstracted stood 

From his own evil, and for the time remain'd 

Stupidly good ; of enmity disarm d, 465 

Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge ; 

But the hot Hell that always in him burns, 

Thou.rh in mid Heaven, soon ended his delig-ht, 

And tortures him now more, the more he sees 

Of pleasure not for him ordain'd. Then soon 470 

Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts 

Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites : 

Thoughts, Avhitherhave ye led me I With whatsweet 
Compulsion thus transported to forget 
What hither brought us ! hate, not love, nor hope 
Of Paradise for Hell, hope here to taste 4/6 

440. It v'as sirpposed tliat Adonis was restored to life at the 
recjuest of Venus. The gardens of Alcinous were celebrated uni- 
vetsuily among- the ancients ; those not mystic were the gar- 
dens Solonion iDiide for Pharaoh's daug-hter. 

457. Tile interview between Aladin and Sophronia in the 
•2 Caij. of 'lasso is described in s-imilar terms. 
4u8. Thai IS, it woo Id be so were he in heaven. Or there is an 
fti'iision perhaps to Job i. 6. ii. 1. 



210 PARADISE LOST. 

Of pleasure, "but all pleasure to destroy. 

Save what is in destroying : other joy 

To me is lost. Then let me not let pass 

Occasion which noA^' smiles. Behold alone 480 

The woman, opportuue to all attempts, 

Her husband, ibr I view far round, not nigh, 

Whose higher intellectual more I shun, 

Ajid strength, of courage haughty, and of limb 

Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould, 485 

Foe not informidable, exempt from wound, 

i not. So much hath Hell debased, and pain 

Enfeebled me to what I was in Heav'n. 

She fair, divinely fair, fit love for Gods ; 

Not terrible, though terror be in love 490 

And beauty ; not approach'd by strong-er hate, 

Hate stronger, under show of love well feign'd, 

The way which to her ruin now I tend. 

So spake th' enemy' of mankind, inclosed 
In serpent, inmate bad, and toward Eve 495 

Address'd his way, not with iudented wave, 
Prone on the ground, as since, but on his rear, 
Circular base of rising folds, that tower'd 
Fold above fold a surging maze, his head 
Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes ; 500 

With bui-nish'd neck of verdant gold, erect 
Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass 
Floated redundant. Pleasing was his shape, 
And lovely : never since of serpent kind 
Lovelier : not those that in lUyria changed 505 

Kermione and Cadmus, or the God 
In Epidaurus ; nor to which transform'd 
Ammonian .love, or Capitoline was seen ; 
He with 01ympias,this with her who bore 
Scipio the highih of Rome. With tract oblique 510 
At first, as one who sought access, but fear'd 
To interrupt, sidelong he works his way. 
As when a ship by skilful steersman wrought, 
Nigh river's mouth or foreland, where the wind 

505. Cfidmns and his wife being* oblij:ed to leave Thebes on 
^01111? into Illyria were changed into serpents by the way ; if the 
word tfiose be considered as referring' to serpents gentrally, or 
the nature of serpents, the construction will be easy. — The god 
in Epidaurus, ^.sculapius, who was worsliippeu in tliat place. 

508. Ammonian, Lybian ; Capitoline, Roman, 



f 



BOOK IX. 211 

Veers oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail, 515 

So varied he, and of his tortuous train 

Curl'd many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve, 

To lure her eye : she busy'd, heard the sound 

Of rustling- leaves, but minded not, as used 

To such disport before her through the field 520 

From ev'ry beast ; more duteous at her call 

Than at Circean call the herd disguised. 

He bolder now, uncall'd, before her stood, 

But as in gaze admiring^; eft he bow'd 

His turret crest and sleek enamel'd neck, 525 

Fawning, and lick'd the ground whereon she trod. 

His gentle dumb expression turn'd at length 

The eye of Eve to mark his play. He, glad 

Of her attention gain'd, with sei'pent-tongue 

Organic, or impulse of vocal air, 630 

His fraudulent temptation thus began : 

Wonder not, sov'reign Mistress, if perhaps 
Thou canst, who art sole wonder ; much less arm 
Thy looks, the Heav'n of mildness, with disdain. 
Displeased that I approach thee thus, and gaze 535 
Insatiate, I thus single, nor have fear'd 
Thy awful brow, more awful thus retired. 
Fairest resemblance of thy Maker fair I 
Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine 
By gift, and thy celestial beauty' adore 540 

With ravishment beheld! there best beheld 
Where universally admired : but here 
In this inclosure wild, these beasts among. 
Beholders rude, and shallow to discern 
Half what in thee is fair, one man except, 545 

Who sees thee' ? (and what is one ?) who should 'st be 
j- A Goddess among Gods, adored and served [seen ; 

Ajj^'AM^y Angels numberless, thy daily train. J £ > , ^ /^ 

^%/So^gjpzed the Tempter, and his proem_tiined ; ^ 
Into the heart of Eve his words made way, 5!>0 

Though at the voice much marvelling. At length, 
Not unamazed, she thus in answer spake : [noiinced 
What may this mean 1 Language of man pro- 
By tongiie of brute, and human sense express'd I 
The first at least of these I thought deny'd 555 

To beasts, whom God on their creation-day 
Created mute to all articulate sound : 



212 PARADISE LOST. 

The latter I demur ; for in their looks 

Much reason, and in their actions oft appeai9. 

Thee, Serpent, subtlest beast of all the field, f 00 

1 knew, but not with human voice endued. 

Redouble then this miracle, and say. 

How cam'st thou speakable of mute ; and how 

To me so friendly grown above the rest 

Of brutal kind, that daily are in sight ! 6C5 

Say ! for such wonder claims attention due. 

To whom the guileful T^*pter thus reply'd : 
Empress of this fair world, ^resplendent Eve, 
Easy to me it is to tell thee all [obey'd 

What thou command'st; and right thou should'st he 
I was at first as other beasts that graze 571 

The trodden herb, of abject thoughts and low. 
As was my food: nor aught but food discern'd, 
Or sex, and apprehended nothing high ; 
Till on a day roving the field, I chanced 575 

A goodly tree far distant to behold, 
Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mix'd. 
Ruddy and gold. I nearer drew to gaze ; 
When from the boughs a savoury odour blown. 
Grateful to appetite, more pleased my sense .580 

Than smell of sweetest fennel, or the teats 
Of ewe or goat dropping with milk at ev'n, 
Unsuck'd of lamb or kid, that tend their play. 
To satisfy the sharp desire I had 
Of tasting those fair apples, I resolved 585 

Not to defer ; hunger and thirst at once 
(Pow'rful persuaders) quicken'd at the scent 
Of that alluring fruit, urged me so keen. 
About the mossy trunk I wound me soon. 
For high from ground the branches would require 59C 
Thy utmost reach or Adam's : Round the tree 
All other beasts that saw, with like desire 
Longing and' envying stood, but could not reach. 
Amid the tree now got, where plenty hung 
Tempting so nigh, to pluck, and eat my fill 595 

I spared not ; for such pleasure till that hour 
At feed or fountain never had I found. 
Sated at length, ere long I might perceive 
Strange alteration in me, to degree 
Of reason in my inward pow'rs, and speech fiOd 



Bf)OK IX. 213 

VV anted not long-, thoug-li to this shape retain'd* 

Thenceforth to speculations high or deep 

I turn'd m.y thoughts, and, with capacious mind, 

Consider'd all things visible in Heav'n, 

Or Earth, or Middle ; all things fair and good : 605 

But all that fair and good in thy divine 

Semblance, and in thy beauty's heav'nly ray 

United 1 beheld. No fair to thine 

Equivalent or second ; which compell'd 

Me thus, though imporfetoe perhaps, to come 010 

And gaze, and worship thee, of right declared 

Sov'reign of creatures, universal Dame. 

So talk'd the spirited sly Snake ; and Eve, 
Yet more amazed, unwary, thus reply 'd: 
Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt 615 

The virtue of that fruit, in thee first proved. 
But say, where grows the tree ? from hence how far? 
For many are the trees of God that grow 
In Paradise, and various, yet unknown 
To us, in such abundance lies our choice, 620 

As leaves a greater store of fruit untouch'd. 
Still hanging incorruptible, till men 
Grow up to their provision, and more hands 
Help to disburden Nature of her birth. 

To whom the wily adder, blithe and glad ; 625 

Empress, the way is ready, and not long; 
Beyond a row of myrtles, on a fiat. 
Fast by a fountain, one small thicket past 
Of blowing myrrh and balm. If thou accept 
My conduct, I can bi'ing thee thither soon. 630 

Lead then, said Eve. He leading swiftly roU'd 
In tangles, and made intricate seem straight, 
To mischief swift. Hope elevates, and joy 
Brightens his crest ; as when a wand'ring fire, 
Compact of unctuous vapour, which the night 635 
Condenses, and the cold environs round, 
Kindled through agitation to a flame, 
Which oft, they say, some evil Spirit attends, 

612. Dame, formerly a term of great respect. 

613. Warburton says, Milton has shewn more skill in the ♦^he- 
ology of this part of the poem tfian in any other. His answer to 
the objec tioivs ag'ainst the Mosaic history are of his own invention. 

634. The description of the ser{>ent in this passage is remark* 
Sible for its fidelity and force. 



214 PARADISE LOST. 

Hov'ring" and blazing" with delusive light, / 
Misleads th' amazed night-wand'rer frora ^is way 
To bogs and mires, and oft throug-h pond or pool, 610 
There swallow'd up and lost, from succour far. 
So glister'd the dire Snake, and into fraud 
Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the tree 
Of prohibition, root of all our woe ! 645 

Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake : 

Serpent, we might have spared our coming hither, 
Fruitless to me, though fruit be here to' excess. 
The credit of whose virtue rest with thee, 
Wondrous indeed, if cause of such effects. 650 

But of this tree we may not taste nor touch ; 
God so commanded, and left that conimand 
Sole daughter of his voice : the rest, we live 
Law to ourselves ; our reason is oar law. 

To whom the Tempter guilefully reply 'd : 655 

Indeed ! Hath God then said, that of the fruit 
Of all these garden-trees ye shall not eat. 
Yet Lords declared of all in earth or air ? 

To whom thus Eve, yet sinless: Of the fruit 
Of each tree in the garden we may eat : 660 

But of the fruit of this fair tree amidst 
The garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat 
Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, lest ye die. 

She scarce had said, though brief, when now more 
The Tempter, but with show of zeal and love [bold 
To Man, and indignation at his wrong, 66& 

New part puts on, and as to passion moved, 
Fluctuates disturb'd, yet comely, and in act 
Raised, as of some great matter to begin. 
As when of old some orator renown'd 670 

In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence 
Flourished, since mute, to some great cause address'd 
Stood in himself collected, while each part, 

643. Fraud, hurt or damag-e. 
644. The tree of prohibition^ an Hebraism for the prohibited 
tree. 

653. Another Hebraism ; the expression signifies among' the 
Jews, 'a voice from heaven,' or any mysterious revelation by 
Bisiis or dreams. 

673. There is a similar Italian exirregsion, in se raccoUo, A 
new reading is proposed by Bentley, thus, 

Stood in himself coUcclvd whotCj while each 
Motion, each air : 
But the best commentators prefer the pre/ieutt^xti 



BOOK IX. 215 

Motion, each act won audience, ere the tongue, 
Sometimes in Ijii^h^ began, as no delay 675 

Of preface brooking* through his zeal of right : 
So standing, moving, or to highth up grown. 
The Tempter, all impassion'd, thus began : 

O sacred, wise, and wisdom giving Plant, 
Mother of science, now I feel thy pow'r 680 

Within me clear, not only to discern 
Things in their causes, but to trace the v/ays 
Of highest agents, deem'd however wise. 
Queen of this universe, do not believe 
Those rigid threats of death : ye shall not die. 685 
How should ye ? by the fruit 1 It gives you life 
To knowledge ; by the threat'ner 1 Look on me. 
Me who have touch'd and tasted, yet both live. 
And life more perfect have attain'd than fate 
Meant me, by venturing higher than my lot. 690 
Shall that be shut to Man, which to the Beast 
Is open 1 or will God incense his ire 
For such a petty trespass, and not praise 
Rather j^our dauntless virtue, whom the pain 
Of death denounced, whatever thing death be, 695 
Deterr'd not from achieving what might lead 
To happier life, knowledge of good and evil ! 
Of good, how just ! of evil, if vi'hat is evii 
Be real, why not known, since easier shunn'd 1 
God therefore cannot hurt ye and be just : 700 

Not just, not God; not fear'd then, nor obey'd : 
Your fear itself of death removes the fear. 
Why then was this forbid ? Why but to awe, 
Why but to keep ye low and ignorant. 
His worshippers. He knows that in the day 705 
Ye eat thereof, your eyes that seem so clear. 
Yet are but dim, shall perfectly be then 
Open'd and clear'd, and ye shall be as Gods, 
Knowing both good and evil as they know. 
That ye shall be as Gods, since I as Man, 710 

: Internal Man, is but proportion meet ; 
I of brute human, ye of human Gods. 
So ye shall die perhaps, by putting off 
Human, to put on Gods ; death to be wish'd, 

70.5. Gen. iii. 5. 
714. To iiul on Gods ; to become divine instead of human. 



216 PARADISE LOST. 

Tho' tlireateii'd, which no worse than this can bring. 
And what are Gods, that Man may not become 716 
As they, participating' Godlike food ? 
The Gods are first, and that advantage use 
On our belief, that all from them proceeds. 
1 question it ; for this fair earth I see, 720 

Warm'd by the sun, producing- ev'ry kind ; 
Them nothing. If they all things, who inclosed 
Knowledge of good and evil in this tree, 
That whoso eats thereof, forthwith attains 
Wisdom without their leave 1 and wherein lies 725 
Th' offence, that Man should thus attain to know 1 
What can your knowledge hurt him, or this tree 
Impart against his will, if ail be his 1 
Or is it envy? And can envy dwell 
"Til heav'nly breasts'? These, these and many more 730 
Causes, import your need of this fair fruit. 
Goddess humane, reach then, and freely taste. 
He ended, and his words, replete with guile. 
Into her heart too easy entrance won. 
Fix'd on the fruit she gazed, which to behold 73.5 
Might tempt alone ; and in her ears the sound 
Yet rung of his persuasive words, impregn'd 
With reason, to her seeming, and with truth : 
Meanwhile the hour of noon drew on, and wak'ed 
An eager appetite, raised by the smell 740 

So savoury of that fruit, which with desire, 
Inclinable now grown to touch or taste. 
Solicited her longing eye : yet first. 
Pausing a while, thus to herself she mused : 

Great are thy virtues, doubtless, best of fruits, 745 
Though kept from man, and worthy to be admired, 
Whose taste, too long forborn, at first assay 
Gave elocution to the mute, and taught 
The tongue not made for speech to speak thy praise. 
Thy praise he also, who forbids thy use, 750 

738. This is one of the few instances of bad taste really affectin" 
the beauty of the narrative, to be fouiid in the jmeni. The whole 
of Satan's speech had tended to inspire spiritual pride and a bold 
desire of knowledi^e ; all the foMowing- reflections of Eve are in 
correspondence with the address of the tempter. The idea, 
therefore, here introduced of her sharpened appetite, and of the 
tavoriness of the fruit, is in bad keeping with the a^eneral tone of 
the passag'e; and I am not a little surprised tiiat any of Milton's 
commentators could have attempted to find a beautv in its 
Introduction. 



BOOK IX. 217 

(JoJiceals not from us, naming thee the tree 

Of knowledge, knowledge both of good and evil : 

Forbids us then to taste ; but his forbidding 

Commends thee more, while it infers the good 

By thee communicated, and our want : 755 

For good unknown, sure is not had ; or had 

And yet unknown, is as not had at all. 

In plain then, what forbids he but to know ; 

Forbids us good ! forbids us to be wise ! 

Such prohibitions bind not. But if death 760 

Bind us with after-bands, Avh at profits then 

Our inward freedom? In the day we eat 

Of this fair fruit, our doom is, we shall die. 

How dies the Serpent? he hath eaten and lives, 

And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discerns : 

Irrational till then. For us alone 766 

Was death invented ? or to us deny'd 

This intellectual food, for beasts reserved ? 

For beasts it seems ; yet that one beast which first 

Ilath tasted, envies not, but brings with joy 770 

The good befall'n him, author unsuspect. 

Friendly to nian, far from deceit or guile. 

What fear I then? Rather, what know to fear 

Under this ignorance of good and evil. 

Of God or death, of law or penalty? 775 

Here grows the cure of all, this fruit divine, 

Fair to the eye, inviting to the taste. 

Of virtue to make wise. What hinders then 

To reach, and feed at once both body' and mind? 

So saying, her rash hand, in evil hour, 789 

Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat! 
Ea^'th felt the v/ound; and Nature from her seat 
Sighing, tbrough all her works gave signs of woe, 
That all was lost ! Back to the thicket slunk 
The guilty Serpent, and well might, for Eve, 785 
Intent now wholly on her taste, nought else 
Regai-ded ; such delight till then, as seem'd. 
In fruit she never tasted, whether true 
Or farHjy'd so, through expectation high 
Of knowledge ; nor was Godhead from her thought. 
Greedily she ingorged without restraint 791 

And knew not eating death. Satiate at length. 
And heighten'd as with wine, jocund, and boou^ 
L 



21S PARADISE LOST. 

Thus to herself she pleasingly began: 
""""^O sovereign, virtuous, precious of all trees 795 

In Paradise, of operation blest 
To sapience, hitherto obscured, infamed, 
And thy fair fruit let hang, as to no end 
Created; but henceforth my early care, 
Not without song, each morning, and due praise 800 
Shall tend thee, and the fertile burden ease 
Of thy full branches, 'offer'd free to all ; 
Till, dieted by thee, I grow mature 
In knowledge, as the Gods who all things know ; 
Though others envy what they cannot give; 805 

For had the gift been theirs, it had not here 
Thus grown. Experience, next to thee I owe, 
Best guide ; not following thee 1 had remain'd 
111 ignorance : thou open'st Wisdom's way, 
And giv'st access, though secret she retire. 810 

And I perhaps am secret: Heav'n is high, 
High and remote, to see from thence distinct 
Each thing on earth , and other care perhaps 
May have diverted from continual watch 
Our great Forbidder, safe with all his spies 815 

About him. But to Adam, in what sort 
Shall I appear? Shall I to him make known 
As yet my change, and give him to partake 
Full happiness with me, or rather not, 
But keep the odds of knowledge in my pow*r 820 
Without copartner? so to add what wants 
In female sex, the more to draw his love, 
And render me more equal, and perhaps, 
A thing not undesirable, sometime 
Superior; for inferior, who is free ? 825 

This may be well ; but what if God have seen. 
And death ensue ? Then I shall be no more ; 
And Adam, wedded to another Eve, 
Shall live with her enjoying; I extinct. 
A death to think I Confirm'd then, I resolve 830 

Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe : 
So dear I love him, that with him all deaths 
I could endure ; without him live no life. 
So saying, from the tree her step she turn'd : 

bl8. To g-ive to partake ; an elegant moae of expressico in 
classic authors. 



BOOK IX. 219 

But first low rev'rence done, as to the Pow'r 835 
That dwelt within, whose presence had infused 
Into the plant sciential sap, derived 
From nectar, drink of Gods. Adam the while 
Waiting-, desirous her return, had wove 
Of choicest fiow'rs a garland, to adorn 840 

Her tresses, and her rural labours crown. 
As reapers oft are wont their harvest-queen. 
Great joy he promised to his thoug-hts, and new 
Solace in her return, so long delay'd ; 
Yet oft his heart, divine of something- ill, 8^15 

Misg-ave him : he the falt'ring- measure felt ; 
And forth to meet her went, the way she took 
That morn when first they parted. By the tree 
Of knowledge he must pass : there he her met, 
Scarce from the tree returning ; in her hand 850 
A bough of fairest fruit, that downy smiled, 
New gather'd, and ambrosial smell diffused. 
To him she hasted. In her face excuse 
Came prologue, and apology too prompt. 
Which with bland words at will she thus address'd ; 
Hast thou not wonder'd, Adam, at my stay ? 850 
Thee I have miss'd, and thought it long, deprived 
Thy presence ; agony of love till now 
Not felt! nor shall be twice ; for never more 
Mean I to try, what rash untry'd I sought, 860 

The pain of absence from thy sight! But strange 
Hath been the cause, and wonderful to hear. 
This tree is not, as we are told, a tree 
Of danger tasted, nor to' evil unknown 
Opening the way, but of divine effect 865 

To open eyes, and make them Gods who taste ! 
And hath been tasted such. The serpent wise. 
Or not restrain'd as we, or not obeying, 

835. This first sign of idolatry in man is well introduced as an 
immediate consequence of the fall. The remaining- portion of 
this book may be considered, I think, as in some resyiects superior 
to any other part of the poem. The mention of Adam, uncon- 
scious of the coming woe, weaving flowers for Eve is exquisitely 
pathetic ; the niisiriving-s of his heart on meeting her, the descrip- 
tion of her ag'itnted a];)ptarance, and the discourse, deep and pas- 
sionate, whicli follows, are all conceited in tlie finest vein o( 
tragic g'enius. In no other part of his poem had Milton an op 
portunity of dispiayintr his power in the delineation of human 
passion, but he has here proved, that had his subject admitted it. 
it v;ould have possessed not less patlios tlian sublimity. 



220 PARADISE LOST. 

Hath eaten of the fruit, and is become, 

Not dead, as we are threaten'd, but thencefortli 870 

Endued with human voice and human sense, 

Reasoninjj to admiration; and with me 

Persuasively hath so prevail'd, that I 

Have also tasted, and have also found 

Th' effects to correspond; opener mine eyes, 875 

Dim erst, dilated spirits, ampler heart, 

And growing- up to Godhead ; which for thee 

Chiefly I sought; without thee can despise: 

For bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss ; 

Tedious, unshared with thee, and odious soon. 880 

Thou therefore also taste, that equal lot 

May join us, equal joy, as equal love ! 

Lest thou not tasting-, dilferent degree 

Disjoin us, and I then too late renounce 

Deity for thee, when Fate will not permit. 83i 

Thus Eve, v/ith count'nance blithe, her story told ; 
But in her cheek distemper flushing- glow'd. 
On th' other side, Adam, soon as he heard 
The fatal trespass done by Eve, amazed, 
Astonied stood and blank, while horror chill 890 

Kan through his veins, and all his joints relax'd ; 
From his slack hand the garland, wreath'd for Eve, 
Down dropt, and all the faded roses shed. 
tSpeechiess he stood and pale, till thus at length, 
First to himself, he inward silence broke : 895 

O fairest of creation, last and best 
or all God's works. Creature in whom excell'd 
Whatever can to sight or thought be form'd. 
Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet ! 
How art thou lost! how on a sudden lo.'it! 900 

Defaced, deflow'r'd, and now to death devote ! 
Hather, How hast thou yielded, to transgress 
The strict forbiddance 1 how to violate 
The sacred fruit forbidden? Some cursed fraud 
Of enemy hath beguiled thee, yet unkntnvn, 905 

And me with thee hath ruin'd! for v/ith thee 
Certain my resolution is to die. 
How can I live without thee ! how forego 
'i'hy sweet converse and love so dearly join'd, 
To live ag-ain in these wild v/oods forlorn ! 010 

Should God create another Eve, and I 



BOOK IX. 



22^ 



Another rib afford, yet loss of thee 

Would never from my heart. No, no, I feel 

The link, of nature draw me ; flesh of flesh. 

Bone of my hone thou art ; and from thy state 915 

Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe. 

So having said, as one from sad dismay 
Recomforted, and after thoughts disturb'd 
Submitting to what seem'd remediless. 
Thus in calm mood his words to Eve he turn'd : 920 

Bold deed thou hast presumed, advent'rous Eve, 
And peril great provoked, who thus hast dared. 
Had it been only coveting- to eye 
That sacred fruit, sacred to abstinence. 
Much more to taste it, under ban to touch. 99^ 

But past who can recall, or done undo 1 
Not God omnipotent, nor Fate : yet so 
Perhaps thou shalt not die ; perhaps the fact 
Is not so hainous now, foretasted fruit. 
Profaned first by the serpent, by him first 930 

Made common and unhallow'd ere our taste ; 
Nor yet on him found deadly, he yet lives ; 
Lives, as thou saidst, and gains to live as Man 
Higher degree of life : inducement strong 
To us, as likely tasting, to attain 935 

Proportional ascent, which cannot be 
But to be Gods, or Angels Demi-Gods. 
Nor can I think that God, Creator wise, 
Though threat'ning, will in earnest so destroy 
Us his prime creatures, dignify'd so high, 940 

Set over all his works, which in our fall. 
For us created, needs with us must fail. 
Dependent made : so God shall uncreate. 
Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour lose. 
Not well conceived of Gad, who tho' his pow'r 945 
Creation could repeat, yet would be loth 
Us to abolish, lest the Adversary 
Triumph and say, Fickle their state whom God 
Most favours : who can please him long? Me first 
He ruin'd, now Mankind. Whom will he next? 95G 
Matter of scorn, not to be giv'n the Foe. 
However, I with thee have fix'd my lot. 
Certain to undergo like doom. If death 

91X>, Hainous; so spelt by Milton, from the French kainetue. 



222 PARADISE LOST. 

Consort with thee, death is to me as life ? 

So forcible within my heart I feel 955 

The bond of nature draw me to my own. 

My own in thee ! for what thou art is mine < 

Our state cannot be severed ; we are one. 

One fiesh. To lose tiiee were to lose myself. 

So Adam; and thus Eve to him reply'd: 980 

O glorious trial of exceeding- love ! 
Illustrious evidence 1 example high ! 
Engaging me to emulate, but short 
Of thy perfection, how shall I attain, 
Adam ? from whose dear side I boast me sprung, 965 
And gladly of our union hear thee speak. 
One heart, one soul in both ; whereof good proof 
This day affords, declaring thee resolved, 
Rather than death or aught than death more dread 
Shall separate us, link'd in love so dear, 970 

To undergo with me one guilt, one crime. 
If any be, of tasting this fair fruit, 
W^hose virtue (for of good still good proceeds, 
Direct, or by occasion) hath presented 
This happy trial of thy love, which else 975 

So eminently never had been known. 
Were it I thought death menaced would ensue 
This my attempt, I would sustain alone 
The worst, and not persuade thee : rather die 
Deserted, than oblige thee with a fact 980 

Pernicious to thy peace, chiefly assured 
Remarkably so late of thy so true. 
So faithful love, unequal'd ; but I feel 
Far otherwise th' event; not death, but life 
Augmented, open'd eyes, new hopes, new joys, 985 
Taste so divine, that what of sweet before 
Hath toach'd my sense, flat seems to this, and harsh. 
On my experience, Adam, freely taste ; 
And fear of death deliver to the winds. 

So saying, she embraced him, and for joy 990 

990. There is srreat beauty and the truest passion in this pic- 
ture of Eve. It well prepares the mind for the fall of Adam, who 
is represented as sinning more throus^h the intoxication of love 
and fondness than any ig-norance of his dang-er. What a magni- 
ficent scene has the poet for the first act of the fearful tragedy ! 
The great theatre of the universe filled with darkness and horror, 
and the earth and elements suffering- with a mysterious conscious 
11688 of ruiD. 



BOOK IX. 223 

Tenderly wept; nuich won that he his lov^e 
Had so ennobled, as of choice t' incur 
Divine displeasure for her sake, or death. 
In recompense (for such compliance bad 
Such recompense best merits) from the hough 995 
She gave him of that fair enticing- fruit 
With liberal hand : he scrupled not to eat 
Agamst his better knowledge ; not deceived, 
But fondly overcome, with female charm. 
Earth trembled from her entrails, as again 1000 

In pangs ; and Nature gave a second groan ; 
Sky lour'd, and, muttering thunder, some sad drops 
Wept at completing of the mortal sin 
Original ; while Adam took no thought. 
Eating his fill; nor Eve to iterate 1005 

Her former trespass fear'd, the more to sooth 
Him with her loved society, that nov/. 
As with new wine intoxicated both. 
They swim in mirth, and fancy that they feel 
Divinity within them breeding wings 1010 

Wherewith to scorn the earth : but that false fruit 
Far other operation first display'd ; 
Carnal desire iilflaming : he on Eve 
Began to cast lascivious eyes ; she him 
As wantonly repaid. In lust they burn : 1015 

Till Adam thus 'gan Eve to dalliance move : 

Eve, now I see thou art exact of taste. 
And elegant, of sapience no small part. 
Since to each meaning savour we apply. 
And palate call judicious. I the praise 1020 

Yield thee, so well this day thou hast purvey'd. 
Much pleasure we have lost while we abstain'd 
From this delightful fruit, nor known till now 
True relish, tasting. If such pleasure be 
In things to us forbidd'n, it might be wish'd, 1025 
For this one tree had been forbidden ten. 

1000. A commentator has expressed his wonder that Adam 
shewed no astonishment at these convulsions. — Had he been is^no- 
rant of his guilt he would have done so, but he was aware of the 
crime he was committing-, and the same fascination which made 
him break the known command of his Creator, prevented his re- 
o-arding these signs of his wrath. It may also be conjectured 
liiat, awful as they were, the confusion of thought and passion 
wit)'- which he was agitated might hinder his giving theni their 
proper and terrible interpretation. 

Q 



224 P A HAD IS E LOST. 

But come, so well retresli'd, now let us play. 

As meet is, after such delicious fare ; 

For never did thy beauty since the day 

I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorn'd 1030 

With all perfections, so inflame my sense 

With ardour to enjoy thee ; fairer now 

Than ever, bounty of this virtuous ti*ee. 

So said he ; and forbore not glance or toy 
Of amorous intent : well understood 1025 

Of Eve, whose eye darted contagious fire. 
Her hand he seized, and to a shady bank. 
Thick overhead wdth verdant roof imbower'd, 
He led her, nothing loth. Flow'rs were the coach, 
Pansies, and violets, and asphodel, 1040 

A.nd hyacinth, eai'th's freshest softest lap. 
There they their fill of love and love's disport 
Took largely, of their miitual guilt the seal. 
The solace of their sin, till dewy sleep 
Oppress'd them, wearied with their amorous play. 
Soon as the force of that fallacious fruit, 1046 

That with exhilarating vapour bland 
About their spirits had play'd, and inmost pow'rs 
Made err, was now exhaled, and grosser sleep 
Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams 1050 
Incumber'd, now had left them, up they rose 
As from unrest, and each the other viewing, 
Soon found their eyes how open'd, and their minda 
How darken 'd. Innocence, that as a veil 
Had shadow'd them from knowing ill, was gone ; 
Just confidence, and native righteousness, 1056 

And honour from about them, naked left 
To guilty shame ; he cover'd, but his robe 
Uncover'd more. So rose the Danite strong 
Herculean Samson from the harlot-lap 1060 

Of Philistean Dalilah, and v/aked 
Shorn of his strength. They destitute and bare 
Of all their virtue : silent, and in face 
Confounded long they sat, as strucken mute, 

1029. The passag-e following' is principally copied from Hornei*. 
and would be exceptionable did it not form part of the moral ot 
the poem : what a contrast, it has been well observed, is the love 
scene here described to that in the eig-hth book. 

1058. He, refers to shame, which is personified. 
1059. Samson was of the tribe of Dan. 



BOOR IX. 225 

Till Adam, thougli nut less than Eve abash'd, 1065 
At length g'ave utt'rance to these words, constraiu'd : 

O Eve ! in evil hour thou didst give ear 
To that false worm, of whomsoever taught 
To counterfeit Man's voice, true in our fall, 
False in our promised rising ! Since our eyes 1070 
Open'd we find indeed, and find we knov/ 
Both good and evil ; good lost, and evil got 1 
Bad fruit of knowledge, if this be to know 
Which leaves us naked thus, of honour void, 
Of innocence, of faith, of purity, 1075 

Our wonted ornaments now soil'd and stain'd. 
And in our faces evident the signs 
Of foul concupiscence ; whence evil store ; 
E'en shame, the last of evils : of the first 
Be sure then. How shall I behold the face 1080 
Hencefortli of God or A7igel, erst with joy 
And rapture so' oft beheld ? those heav'nly shapes 
Will dazzle now this earthly with their blaze, 
Insufferably bright! O might I here 
In solitude live savage, in some glade 1085 

Obscured, where highest woods impenetrable 
To star or sun-light, spread their umbrage broad. 
And brown as ev'ning! Cover me, ye Pines ; 
Ye Cedars, with innumerable boughs 
Hide me, where I may never see them more. 1090 
But let us now, as in bad plight, devise 
What best may for the present serve to hide 
The parts of each from other, that seem most 
To shame obnoxious, and unseemliest seen ; 
Some tree, whose broad smooth leaves together sew'd, 
And girded on our loins, may cover round 1096 

Those middle parts, that this new comer, Shame, 
There sit not, and reproach us as unclean. 

So counsel'd he ; and both together went 
Into the thickest wood ; there soon they chose 1100 
The fig-tree ; not that kind for fruit renown'd, 
But such as at this day, to Indians known 
In Malabar or Deccan, spreads her arms 
Branching so broad and long, that in the ground 
The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow 1 105 
About the mother-tree, a pillar'd shade 

1103. Malabar, a part of the East Indies, in which is the Wng 
dom of Deccan. 

L2 



226 PARADISE LOST. 

High over-arcla'd, and echoing" walks between : 

There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat. 

Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing- herds 

At loop-holes cut through thickest shade. Those leavea 

They gather'd, broad as Amazonian targe, IIH 

And with what skill they had together sew'd. 

To gird their waist. Vain covering, if to hide 

Their guilt and dreaded shame ! O how unlike 

To that iirst naked glory 1 Such of late 1115 

Columbus found th' American, so girt 

With feather'd cincture, naked else and wild 

Among the trees on isles and woody shores. 

Thus fenced, and as they thought, their shame in part 

Covered, but not at rest or ease of mind, 1120 

They sat them down to weep ; nor only tears 

Rain'd at their eyes, but high winds worse within 

Began to rise, high passions, anger, hate, 

Mistrust, 5usj)icion, discord, and shook sore 

Their inward state of mind : calm region once 1125 

And full of peace, now tost and turbulent; 

For understanding- ruled not, and the will 

Heard not her lore, both in subjection now 

To sensual appetite, who from beneath 

Usurping over sov'reign reason, claim'd IlSfl 

Supei'ior sway. From thus distemper'd breast, 

Adam, estranged in look and alter" d style. 

Speech intermitted thus to Eve renew'd : [stay'd 

Would thou hadst hearken'd to my words, and 
With me, as 1 besought thee, when that strange 1135 
Desire of wand 'ring this unhappy morn, 
I know not v*^hence, possess'd thee ; we had then 
Remained still happy, not, as now, despoil'd 
Of all our good, shamed, naked, miserable. 
Let none henceforth seek needless cause to' approve 
The faith they owe : when earnestly they seek 1141 
Such proof, conclude, they then begin to fail. [Eve : 

To whom, soon moved v/ith touch of blame, thus 
What words have pass'd thy lips, Adam, severe ! 
Imput'st thou that to my default, or will 1145 

Of wand'ring, as thou call st it, which who knows 
But might as ill have happen'd thou being by. 
Or to thyself perhaps ? Hadst thou been there, 

1112. Together sew^d ; this which is taken from our translation 
of the passag'e in Genesis, means in the original, wove or plaited. 



BOOK IX. 227 

Or here tli* attempt, thou couldst not have discern'd 
Fraud in the Serpent, speaking as he spake ; 1150 
No ground of enmity between us known, 
Why he should mean me ill, or seek to harm. 
Was I to have ne'er parted from thy side ? 
As good have g-rown there still, a lifeless rib ! 
Being- as I am, why didst not thou, the head, 1153 
Command me absolutely not to g'O, 
Going into such danger as thou saidst ? 
Too facile then thou didst not much gainsay. 
Nay, didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss. 
Hadst thou been firm and fix'd in thy dissent, 1160 
Neither had I transg-ress'd, nor thou with me. 

To whom then, first incensed, Adam reply'd : 
Is this the love, is this the recompense 
Oi mine to thee, ingrateful Eve, express'd 
Immutable when thou wert lost, not I, 1105 

Who might have lived and joy'd immortal bliss. 
Yet Avillingly chose rather death with thee 1 
And am I now upbraided as the cause 
Of thy transgressing' 1 not enough severe, 
It seems, in thy restraint. What could I more ? 1170 
I warn'd thee, I admonish'd thee, foretold 
The danger, and the lurking enemy 
That lay iu wait. Beyond this had been force ; 
And force upon free-will hath here no place. 
13ut confidence then bore thee on, secure 1175 

Either to meet no danger, or to find 
Matter of glorious trial ; and perhaps 
I also err'd in overmuch admiring 
What seem'd in thee so perfect, that 1 thought 
No evil durst attempt thee ; but I rue 1180 

That error now, which is become my crime. 
And thou th' accuser. Thus it shall befall 
Him who, to worth in women overtrusting, 
Lets her will rule. Restraint she will not brook ; 
And left to' herself, if evil thence ensue, 1183 

She first his weak indulgence will accuse. 

Thus they in mutual accusation spent 
The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning : 
And of their vain contest appear'd no end. 

1170. My restraint is found in some editions. 
1183. Bentley reads, womtin ; but the transition from the sin- 
gular to the plural, as in this passage, is not a sufficient reason 
for thp ?Uan|e. 



BOOK X. 

THE ARGUMENT. 

Man's transgression known, the g-uardian Angela forsake Po 
radise, and return up to Heaven to approve their vig'ilance, and 
are approved, God declaring that the entrance of Satan could no{ 
be by them prevented. He sends his Son to judge the transgres- 
sors, vvho descends and gives sentence accordingly ; then in pity 
clothes them both, and re-ascends. Sin and Death, sitting till then 
at the gates of Hell, by wondrous sympathy feeling the success 
of Satan In this new world, and the sin by Man there committed, 
resolve to sit no longer confined in Hell, but to follow Satan their 
sire up to the place of Man. To make the way easier from Hell 
to this world to and fi'o, they pave a broad highway or bridge 
over Chaos, according to the track that Satan first made ; then, 
preparing for Earth, they meet him, proud of his success, return- 
ing to Hell ; their mutual gratulation. Satan arrives at Pande- 
monium, in full assembly relates with boasting his success against 
Man : instead of applause, is entertained with a general hiss by 
all his audience, transformed with himself also suddenly into 
serpents, according to his doom given in Paradise ; then deluded 
with a show of the forbidden tree springing up before them, they 
greedily reaching to take of the fruit, chew dust and bitter ashes. 
The proceedings of Sin and Death : God foretells the final victory 
of his Son over them, and the renewing of all things ; but for the 

E resent commands his Angels to make several alterations in the 
[eavens and elements. Adam, more and more perceiving his 
fallen condition, heavily bewails, rejects the condolement of Eve ; 
she persists, and at length appeases him : then, to evade the curse 
likely to fail on their offspring, proposes to Adam violent ways, 
v/hich he approves not; but, conceiving better hope, puts her in 
mind of the late promise made them, that her Seed should be 
revenged on the Serpent; and exhorts her with him to seek 
peace of the offended Deity, fay repentance and supplication. 

Meanwhile the hainous and despiteful act 

Of Satan done in Paradise, and how 

He in the serpent had perverted Eve, 

Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit. 

Was known in Heav'n : for what can 'scape the eye 

Of God all-seeing", or deceive his heart 6 

Omniscient ! who in all things wise and just, 

Hinder'd not Satan to attempt the mind 

Of Man, with strength entire, and free-will arm'd, 

Complete to have discover'd and repulsed 10 

Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend. [ber'd 

For vStill they knew, and ought to' have still remem- 

The high injunction not to taste that fruit 

Whoever tempted : wliich they not obeying, 

1. There is more of action, as Addison has well observed, in 
this book than in any other, and all the characters of the poem 
arc made to paas in quick succesc4on before the reader. 



BOOK X. 229 

Iiicurr'd (what could they less ?) the penalty, 15 

And manifold in sin, deserved to fall. 
Up into Heav'n from Paradise in haste 
Th' Ang-elic guards ascended, mute and sad 
For Man ; for of his state hy this they knew, 
Much wond'ring' how the subtle fiend had stolen 1Q 
Entrance unseen. Soon as th' unwelcome news 
From Earth arrived at Heaven-gate, displeased 
All were who heard ; dim sadness did not spare 
That time celestial visages ; yet, mix'd 
With pity, violated not their bliss. 25 

About the new-arrived, in multitudes 
Th' ethereal people ran, to hear and knov/ 
How all befell: they tow'rds the throne supreme, 
Accountable, made haste to make appear 
With righteous plea their utmost vigilance, 30 

And easily approved ; when the Most High 
Eternal Father, from his secret cloud, 
Amidst in thunder, utter'd thus his voice : 

Assembled Angels, and ye Tow'rs return'd 
From iinsuccessfal charge, be not dismay'd 35 

Nor troubled at these tidings from tbe earth, 
Which your sincerest care could not prevent, 
Foretold so lately what would come to pass. 
When first this tempter cross'd the gulf from Hell. 
I told ye then he should prevail and speed 40 

On his bad errand ; Man should be seduced 
And flatter'd out of all, believing lies 
Against his Maker ; no decree of mine 
Concurring- to necessitate his fall. 
Or touch with lightest moment of impulse 45 

His free-will, to her own inclining left 
In even scale. But fall'n he is ; and now 
What rests, but that the mortal sentence pass 
On his transgression, death denounced that day 
Which he presumes already vain and void. 
Because not yet inflicted, as he fear'd. 
By some immediate stroke ; but soon shall find 
Forbearance no acquittance, ere day end. 
Justice shall not return as bounty scorn'd. 

94 Mh-'d with pity must be read as in a parenthesis, accord- 
in?. V^"rburton ; the idea of angelic sadness thus softened unng 
^ery just and beautiful. 



50 



230 PARADISE LOST. 

But whom send I to judg-e them ? Whom but thee, 55 

Viceg-erent Son 1 To thee I have transferr'd 

All judgment, whether in Heav'n, or Earth, or Hell. 

Easy it may be seen that I intend 

Mercy colleague with justice, sending thee 

Man's Friend, his Mediator, his design'd 6ii 

Both Ransom and Redeemer voluntary. 

And destined Man himself to judge Man faU'n. 

So spake the Father, and unfolding bright 

Tow'rd the right hand his glory, on the Son 

Blazed forth unclouded Deity : he full 66 

Resplendent all his Father manifest 

Express'd, and thus divinely answer'd mild : 

Father Eternal, thine is to decree ; 
Mine, both in Heav'n and Earth, to do thy will 
Supreme, that thou in me, thy Son beloved, 70 

May^st ever rest well pleased. I go to judge 
On earth these thy transgressors ; but thou know'st. 
Whoever judged, the worst on me must light, 
When time shall be, for so I undertook 
Before thee ; and not repenting, this obtain 75 

Of right, that I may mitigate their doom 
On me derived ; yet I shall temper so 
Justice with mercy', as may illustrate most 
Them fully satisfy'd, and thee appease. 
Attendance none shall need, nor train where none 80 
Are to behold the judgment, but the judged. 
Those two. The third, best absent, is condemn'd, 
Convict by flight, and rebel to all laAV 
Conviction to the serpent none belongs. 

Thus saying, from his radiant seat he rose 85 

Of high collat'ral glory' : him Thrones and Pow'rs, 
Princedoms and Dominations ministrant, 
Accompanied to Heaven-gate ; from whence 
Eden and all the coast in prospect lay. 
Down he descended straight : the speed of Gods 90 
Time counts not, tho' with swiftest minutes wing'd. 
Now was the sun in western cadence low 
From noon, and gentle airs due at their hour 

56. John V. 22—27. 59. Ps. Ixxxv. 10. 

74. According: to Book iii. line 236. 

78. Illustrate most, «hew or prove most clearly. 

92. Gen. iii. 8, and following' verses. 



BOOK X. 231 

To fan the eartli, now waked, and usher in 

The ev'ning cool, when he from wrath more cool, 95 

Came the mild Judg'e and Intercessor both. 

To sentence Man. The voice of God they heard 

Now walking in the garden, by soft winds 

Brought to their ears, while day declined : they heard, 

And from his presence hid themselves among' 100 

The thickest trees, both man and wife, till God 

Approaching', thus to Adam call'd aloud : 

Where art thou, Adam? wont with joy to meet 

My coming', seen far off! I miss thee here, 

Not pleased, thus entertain'd with solitude, 105 

Where o])vious duty' erewhile appear'd unsought ; 

Or come I less conspicuous 1 or v/hat change 

Absents thee, or what chance detains 1 Come forth. 

He came, and with him Eve, more loth, tho' first 
T' offend, discount'nanced both, and discomposed : 110 
Lore was not in their looks, either to God 
Or to each other, but apparent guilt. 
And shame, and perturbation, and despair, 
Ang-er, and obstinacy', and hate, and guile. 
Whence Adam, falt'ring- long, thus answer'd brief: 
I heard thee in the garden, and of thy voice 116 

Afraid, being naked, hid myself. To whom 
The gracious Judge, without revile, reply d: 
My voice thou oft hast heard, and hast not fear'd. 
But still rejoiced : how is it now become 120 

So dreadful to thee ? That thou'rt naked, who 
Hath told thee? Hast thou eaten of the tree 
Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldst not eat 1 

To whom thus Adam, sore beset, reply'd: 

Heav'n I in evil strait this day I stand 125 
Before my Judge, either to undergo 

Myself the total crime, or to accuse 

My other self, the partner of my life ; 

Whose failing, while her faith to me remains, 

1 should conceal, and not expose to blame 130 
By my complaint; but strict necessity 

Subdues me, and calamitous constraint. 

Lest on my head both sin and punishment, 

However insupportable, be all 

Devolved ; tho', should I hold my peace, yet thou 1&5 

Wouldst easily detect what I conceal. 



232 TAR AD IS E LOST. 

This Woraan, whora thou niad'st to be my help. 

And gav'st me as thy perfect gift, so good, 

So fit, so acceptable, so divine. 

That from her hand I could suspect no ill ; 14^ 

And what she did, whatever in itself, 

Her doing seem'd to justify the deed ; 

She gave me of the tree, and I did eat. 

To whora the Sov'reign Presence thus reply'd : 
Was she thy God, that her thou didst obey 145 

Before his voice ? or was she made thy guide, 
Superior, or but equal, that to her 
Thou didst resign thy manhood, and the place 
Wherein God set thee 'bove her, made of thee, 
And for thee, whose perfection far excell'd 150 

Hers in all real dignity? Adorn'd 
She was indeed, and lovely to attract 
Thy love, not thy subjection ; and her gifts 
Were such as under government well seem'd, 
Unseemly to bear rule, which was thy part 155 

And person, hadst thou known thyself aright. 

So having said, he thus to Eve in few : 
Say, Woman, what is this which thou hast done? 

To whom sad Eve, with shame nigh ovorwhelm'd, 
Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge 160 

Bold or loquacious, thus abash'd, reply'd : 
The Serpent me beguiled, and I did eat. 

Which when the Lord God heard, without delay 
To judgment he proceeded on th' accused 
Serpent, though brute, unable to transfer 165 

The guilt on him who made him instrument 
Of mischief, and polluted from the end 
Of his creation ; justly then accursed. 
As vitiated in nature : more to know 
Concern'd not Man (since he no further knew) 170 
Nor alter'd his offence ; yet God at last 
To Satan, first in sin, his dooin applied. 
Though in mysterious terms, judged as then best ; 
And on the serpent thus his curse let fall : 

156. Person, here used in the sense of the Latin persona, cha- 
racter. 

169. Warburton conjectures from this passasre that Milton had 
not the intention when he wrote it, of making- Michael g-ive Adam 
the informatior on redemption which is found in the xiith book. 
If it bti not so, the passag-e as he observes is out of place. 



BOOK X. ^ 2*d3 

Because thou hast done this, thou art accursed 173 

Above all cattle, each beast of the field ; 

Upon thy belly grov'ling thou shalt go. 

And dust shalt eat all the days of thy life. 

Between thee and the Woman I will put 

Rnmity, and between thine and her seed : 180 

Her Seed shall bruise th,y head ; thou bruise his heel. 

So spake this Oracle, then verify'd 
When Jesus, Son of Mary, second Eve, 
Saw Satan fall like lightning down from Heav'n, 
Prince of the air ; then, rising from his grave, 185 
Spoil'd principalities and pov/'rs, triumph 'd 
In open show, and, v/ith ascension bright. 
Captivity led captive through the air. 
The I'ealm itself of Satan long usurp'd ; 
Whom he shall tread at last under our feet; 190 

E'en he who now foretold his fatal bruise. 
And to the Woman thus his sentence turn'd : 
Thy sorrow I will greatly multiply 
By thy conception ; Children thou shalt bring 
In sorrow forth ; and to thy husband's will 195 

Thine shall submit : he over thee shall rule. 

On Adam last thus judgment he pronounced : 
Because thou'st hearken'd to th' voice of thy wife. 
And eaten of the tree, concei'ning which 199 

1 charged thee, saying. Thou shalt not eat thereof; 
Cursed is the ground for thy sake ; thou in sorrow 
Shalt eat thereof all the days of thy life ; 
Thorns also' and thistles it shall bring thee forth 
Unbid ; and thou shalt eat th' herb of the field ; 
In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, 205 
Till thou return unto the ground ; for thou 
Out of the g-round wast taken (know thy birth); 
For dust thou art, and shalt to dust return. 

So judged he Man, both Judge and Saviour sent. 
And th' instant stroke of death denounced, that day 
Removed far off; then pitying how they stood 2H 
Before him naked to the air, that now 
Must suffer change, disdain'd not to begin 
Thenceforth the form of servant to assume, 

181. There are several allusions to Scripture in this and the 
following- lines, Luke x. 18. Eph. ii. 2. Col. ii. 15. Ps. Ixviii, IS, 
and Rom. xxi. 20. 214. Philip, ii. 7. 



234 PARADISE LOST. 

As when he wash'd his servants' feet, so now, 215 

As Father of his family, he clad 

Their nakedness with skins of beasts, or slaiu. 

Or as the snake with youthful coat repaid ; 

And thought not much to clothe his enemies : 

Nor he their outward only with the skins 220 

Of beasts, but inward nakedness, much more 

Opprobrious, with his robe of righteousness. 

Arraying, cover 'd from his Father's sight. 

To him with swift ascent he up return'd. 

Into his blissful bosom re-assumed 225 

In glory, as of old ; to him appeased 

All, tho' all-knowing, what had pass'd with Man 

Recounted, mixing intercession sweet. 

Meanwhile ere thus was sinn'd and judged on Earth, 
Witbin the gates of Hell sat Sin and Death, 230 

In coiinterview within the gates, that now 
Stood open wide, belching oxitrageous flame 
Far into Chaos, since the Fiend pass'd through. 
Sin opening, who thus now to Death began : 

O Son, why sit we here each other viewing 235 
Idly, while Satan our great author thrives 
In other worlds, and happier seat provides 
For us, his offspring dear ? It cannot be 
Rut that success attends him ; if mishap, 
Ere this he had return'd, with fury driven 240 

By his avengers, since no place like this 
Can fit his punishment, or their revenge. 
Methinks I feel new strength within me rise. 
Wings growing, and dominion given me large 
Beyond this deep ; whatever draws me on, 245 

Or sympathy, or some connat'ral force, 
Pow'rful at greatest distance, to unite 
"With secret amity things of like kind 
By secretest conveyance. Thou my shade 
Inseparable, must with me along; 250 

For Death from Sin no power can separate. 

216. It was formerly Vjelieved that some animals shed their 
skins like snakes: but the most common supj-osition is, that the 
ekins mentioned in this part of Scripture history were those ol 
animals offered in sacrifice, which it is arenerally supposed were 
: nstituted in the earliest period of man's existence. 
222. Isaiah Ixi. 10. 
229 Sinned and jxidged, impersonal verbs. 



I500K X. 235 

But lest the difficulty of passing- back 

Stay his return perhaps over this gulf 

Impassable, impervious, let us try 

Advent'rous w^ork, yet to thy pow'r and mine 253 

Not unagreeable, to found a path 

Over this main from Hell to that New World 

Where Satan now prevails, a monument 

Of merit high to all ih' infernal host. 

Easing their passage hence, for intercourse 260 

Or transmigration, as their lot shall lead. 

Nor can I miss the way, so strongly drawn 

By this new-felt attraction and instinct. 

Whom thus the meagre Shadow answer 'd soon : 
Go whither Fate and inclination strong 265 

Leads thee ; I shall not lag behind, nor err 
The way, thou leading, such a scent I draw 
Of carnage, prey innumerable, and taste 
The savour of Death from all things there that live : 
Nor shall I to the work thou enterprisest 270 

Be wanting, but afford thee equal aid. 

So saying, with delight he snuff 'd the smell 
Of mortal change on earth. As when a flock 
Of ravenous fowl, though many a league remote. 
Against the day of battle, to a field 275 

Where armies lie encamp'd, come flying, lured 
With scent of living carcases design'd 
For death the following day, in bloody fight ; 
So scented the grim Feature, and upturn'd 
His nostril wide into the murky air, 280 

Sagacious of his quarry from so far. 
Then both from out Hell-gates into the waste 
Wide anarchy of Chaos, damp and dark. 
Flew diverse, and with pow'r (their pow'r was great) 
Hov'ring upon the waters, what they met, 285 

Solid or slimy, as in raging sea 
Tost up and down, together crowded drove 
' From each side shoaling towards the mouth of Hell : 
As when two polar winds, blowing adverse 
Upon the Cronian sea, together drive 290 

Mountains of ice, that stop th' imagined way 

266. Nor err, noT mistake. 
290. Cronian sea, the icrthern frozen ocean. — Petsora^ a pro- 
vince on the north eastern extremity of Muscovy.— CafAatan 
ioasi, the north of China. 



236 PARADISIC LOST. 

Beyond Petsora eastward, to the rich 

Cathaian coast. The ag'gregated soil 

Death with his mace petrific, cold and dry. 

As with a trident smote, and fix'd as firm 29!; 

As Delos floating once ; the rest his look 

Bound with Gorgonian rigour not to move ; 

And with Asphaltic slime, broad as the gate, 

Deep to the roots of Hell the gather'd beach 

They fasten'd, and the mole immense wrought on 300 

Over the foaming deep high arch'd, a bridge 

Of length prodigious, joining to the wall 

Immoveable of this now fenceless world 

Forfeit to Death : from hence a passage broad, 

Smooth, easy, inoflensive down to Hell. 305 

So, if great things to small may be compared, 

Xerxes, the liberty of Greece to yoke. 

From Susa his Memnonian palace high 

Came to the sea, and over Hellespont 

Bridging his way, Europe with Asia join'd, 310 

And scourged with many a stroke th' indignant waves. 

Now had they brought the work by wondrous art 

Pontifical, a ridge of pendent rock, 

Over the vex'd abyss, following the track 

Of Satan to the self-same place where he 315 

First lighted from his wing, and landed safe 

From out of Chaos, to -the outside bare 

Of this round world. With pins of adamant 

And chains they made all fast, too fast they made 

And durable ; and now in little space 320 

The confines met of Empyrean Heav'n 

And of this World, and on the left hand Hell 

W^ith long reach interposed : three sev'ral ways 

In sight, to each of these three places led. 

And now their way to Earth they had descry'd, 325 

To Paradise first tending, when, behold, 

Satan, in likeness of an Angel bright, 

296. After it became the birth-place of Apollo, Delos ceased, it 
is said, to Moat as formerly. 

304. Matt. vii. 13. 

305. Xerxes, Uie king^ of Persia, built a bridg'e over the Helles- 
pont to invade Greece. — Susa was the capital of Susiana, a pro- 
vince of Persia. 

312. The art of raisins;' bridg'es was among- the most wonderful 
in antiquity ; and the high-priest of the Romans derived his name 
Pontifex, xvoxa pons, a bridge, ^nAfacere, to make. 

322. Hell is placed on the left hand according to our Saviour's 
account. Matt. xxv. 41. 



BOOK X. 237 

Betwixt the Centaur and the Scorpion steering 

His zenith, while the sun in Aries rose. 

Disguised he came ; but those his children dear 330 

Their parent soon discern'd, though in disguise. 

He, after Eve seduced, unminded slunk 

Into the wood fast by, and changing- shape 

T' observe the sequel, saw his guileful act 

By Eve, though all unweeting, seconded 335 

Upon her husband, saw their shame that sought 

Vain covertures ; but when he saw descend 

The Soji of God to judge them, terrify'd 

He fled, not hoping to escape, but shun 

The present, fearing guilty what his wrath S40 

Might suddenly inflict ; that pass'd, retum'd 

By night, and list'ning where the hapless pair 

Sat in their sad discourse, and various plaint, 

Thence gather 'd his own doom, which understood 

Not instant, but of future time, with joy 345 

And tidings fraught, to Hell he now return'd, 

And at the brink of Chaos, near the foot 

Of this new wondrous pontifice, unhoped 

Met who to meet him came, his offspring dear. 

Great joy was at their meeting, and at sight 350 

Of that stupendous bridge his joy increased. 

Long he admiring stood, till Sin, bis fair 

Enchanting daughter, thus the silence broke : 

O Parent, these are thy magnific deeds. 
Thy trophies, which thou view'st as not thine own 1 
Thou art their author and prime architect : 356 

For I no sooner in my heart divined. 
My heart, which by a secret harmony 
Still moves with thine, join'd in connexion sweet. 
That thou on earth hadst prosper'd, which thy looks 
Now also evidence, but straight I felt, 361 

Tho' distant from thee worlds between, yet felt 
That I must after thee with this thy son ; 
Such fatal consequence unites us three : 
Hell could no longer hold us in her bounds, 365 

Nor this unvoyageable gulf obscure 
Detain from following thy illustrious track. 
Thou hast achieved our liberty, confined 
■^Vithin Hell-gates till now ; thou us impower'd 

328. To avoid the observation of Uriel, the constellations ihfougrh 
ivliich Satan passed being the most distant from Aries. 



238 PARADISE LOST. 

To fortify thus far, and overlay 370 

With this portentous bridg-e the dark abyss. 

Thine now is all this world ; thy virtue' hath won 

What thy hands builded not ; thy wisdom gain'd 

With odds what war hath lost, and fully 'venged 374 

Our foil in Heav'n : here thou shalt monarch reign ; 

There didst not ; there let him still victor sway. 

As battle hath adjudged, from this new world 

Retiring, by his own doom alienated. 

And henceforth monarchy with thee divide 

Of all things parted by th' empyreal bounds, 380 

His quadrature, from thy orbicular world. 

Or try thee now more dangerous to his throne. 

Whom thus the Prince of darkness answer'd glad j 
^air Daughter, and thou Son and Grandchild both, 
'' High proof ye now have given to be the race 385 
Of Satan (for I glory in the name, 
Antagonist of Heav'n s Almighty King) ; 
Amply have merited of me, of all 
Th' infernal empire, that so near Heav'n's door 
Triumphal with triumphal act have met, 390 

Mine with this glorious work, and made one realm 
Hell and this world, one realm, one continent 
Of easy thoroughfare. Therefore, while I 
Descend through darkness, on your road with ease, 
To my associate Pow'rs, them to acquaint 395 

With these successes, and with them rejoice. 
You two this way, among these numerous orbs 
All yours, right down to Paradise descend ; 
There dwell and reign in bliss, thence on the earth 
Dominion exercise, and in the air, 400 

Chiefly on Man, sole lord of all declared ; 
Him first make sure your thrall, and lastly kill. 
My substitutes I send ye,* and create 
Plenipotent on earth, of matchless might 
Issuing from me. On your joint vigour now 405 
My hold of this nev/ kingdom all depends, 
Through Sin to Death exposed by my exploit. 
If your joint pow'r prevail, th' affairs of Hell 
No detriment need fear. Go, and be strong. 

So saying, he dismiss'd them ; they with speed 410 
Their course through thickest constellations held, 

aa". Antagonist, the meaning of the Hebrew word Satan 



BOOK X. 239 

Spreading their bane ; the blasted stars look'd wan. 

And planets, planet-struck, veal eclipse 

Then suffer'd. Th' other way Satan went down 

The causey to Hell-g-ate ; on either side 415 

Disparted Chaos over-built exclaim'd. 

And with rebounding surge the bars assail'd 

That scorn'd his indignation. Through the gate. 

Wide open and unguarded, Satan pass'd. 

And all about found desolate ; for those 420 

Appointed to sit there had left their charge, 

Flown to the upper world ; the rest were all 

Far to th' inland retired, about the walls 

Of Pandemonium, city and pi'oud seat 

Of Lucifer, so by allusion call'd, 425 

Of that bright star to Satan paragon'd. 

There kept their watch the legions, while the Grand 

In council sat, solicitous what chance 

Might intercept their emperor sent ; so he 

Departing, gave command ; and they observed. 430 

As when the Tartar from his Russian foe 

By Astracan over the snowy plains 

Retires, or Bactrian Sophi from the horns 

Of Turkish crescent, leaves all waste beyond 

The realm of Aladule, in his retreat 435 

To Tauris or Casbeen, so these the late 

Heav'n-banish'd host, left desert utmost Hell 

Many a dark league, reduced in careful watch 

Round their metropolis, and now expecting 

Each hour their great advent'rer from the search 440 

Of foreign worlds ; he through the midst, unmark'd, 

In show plebeian Angel militant 

Of lowest order, pass'd ; and from the door 

Of that Plutonian hall, invisible. 

Ascended his high throne, which under state 445 

Of richest texture spread, at th* upper end 

Was placed in regal lustre. Down a while 

He sat, and round about him saw, unseen. 

412. See Ovid, Met. ii. 791. 
426. Paragon'd, from the Frencii partaigonner. 
432. Astracan, a Inrj^e city in one of the islands of the Volga. 
-•Sophi, the king of Persia, who is styled Bactrian, from one of 
the richest of the Persian provinces. 

435. Aladule, the greater Armenia. — Tauris, a city in Persia, 
now called Ecbatana. — Casbeen, another great city in the .same 
country. 

R 



240 PARADISE LOST. 

At last, as from a cloud, his fulgent head 

And shape star-bright appear 'd, or brighter, clad 450 

With what permissive g"lory since his fall 

Was left him, or false glitter. All amazed 

At that so sudden blaze, the Stygian throng 

Bent their aspect, and whom they wish'd beheld. 

Their mighty chief returned. Loud was th' acclaim : 

Forth rush'd in haste the great consulting peers, 456 

Raised from their dark Diyan, and with like joy 

Oongratulant approach'd him, who with hand 

Silence, and with these words attention won : 

Thrones, Dominations,Princedoms, Virtues, Pow'rs, 
For in possession such, not only' of right, 461 

I call ye, and declare ye now, return'd 
Successful beyond hope, to lead ye forth 
Triumphant out of this infernal pit 
Abominable, accursed, the house of woe, 465 

And dungeon of our tyrant. Now possess, 
As Lords, a spacious world, to' our native Heav'n 
Little inferior, by my adventure hard 
With peril great achieved. Long were to tell 
What I have done, what suffer'd, with what pain 470 
Voyaged th' unreal, vast, unbounded deep 
Of horrible confusion, over which 
By Sin and Death a broad way now is paved 
To expedite your glorious march ; but I 
Toil'd out my uncouth passage, forced to ride 475 
Th' untractable abyss, plunged in the womb 
Of unoriginal Night and Chaos wild. 
That jealous of their secrets liercely opposed 
My journey strange, with clamorous uproar 
Protesting Fate supreme ; thence how I found 480 
The new-created world, which fame in Heav'n 
Long had foretold, a fabric wonderful. 
Of absolute perfection, tlierein Man 
Placed in a Paradise, by our exile 
Made happy. Him by fraud I have seduced 485 
From his Creator, and the more to' increase 
Your wonder, with an apple ! He thereat 
Offended (worth your laughter) hath given up 
Both his beloved Man and all his world. 
To Sin and Death a prey, and so to us, 490 

Without our hazard, labour, or alarm. 



BOOK X. 241 

To range m, and to dwell, and over Man 

To rul-e, as over all he should have ruled. 

True is, me also he hath judged, or rather 

Me not, but the brute Serpent, in whose shape 495 

Man I deceived. That which to me belongs 

Is enmity, which he will put between 

Me and mankind : I am to bruise his heel ; 

His seed (when is not set) shall bruise my head. 

A. world who would not purchase with a bruise, 500 

Or much more grievous pain ? Ye have th' account 

Of my performance : What remains, ye Gods, 

But up and enter now into full bliss ? 

So having said, a while he stood, expecting 
Their universal shout and high applause 505 

To fill his ear ; when, contrary, he hears 
On all sides, from innumerable tongues 
A dismal universal hiss, the sound 
Of public scorn. He wonder'd, but not long 
Had leisure, wond'ring at himself now more : 510 
His visage drawn he felt to sharp and spare. 
His arms clung to his ribs, his legs intwining 
Each other, till supplanted down he fell 
A monstrous serpent on his belly prone. 
Reluctant, but in vain ; a greater Pow'r 515 

Now ruled him, punish'd in the shape he sinn'd, 
According to his doom. He would have spoke. 
But hiss for hiss return'd with forked tongue 
To forked tongue ; for now were all transform'd 
Alike ; to serpents all as accessories 520 

To his bold riot. Dreadful was the din 
Of hissing through the hall, thick swarming now 
With complicated monsters, head and tail, 
Scoi-pion, and Asp, and Amphisbaena dire. 
Cerastes horn'd, Hydrus, and Elops drear, 525 

And Dipsas (not so thick swarm'd once the soil 



504. The transformation of the fallen angels mentioned in this 
passage is a fine invention, and one of those bold marvels which 
80 well fit the nature of epic poetry. 

513. Supplanted, here used in its orig-inal sense, from the 
Latin supplantare, to trip up by the heels. 

524. Amphisbasna t a serpent with a head at both ends of its 
body; Cetastes, as here called, a horned snake ; Hydrxis, a water 
foake; Elops, a serpent which gives no notice of its approach* 
S4id Dipsas f one which occasions a feverish thirst by its bite. 

M 



2^12 PARADISE LOST. 

Bedropt with "blood of Gorgon, or the isle 

Ophiusa) ; but still greatest he the midst. 

Now Dragon grown, larger than whom the son 

Engender'd in the Pythian vale on slime, 530 

Huge Python, and his pow'r no less he seem'd 

Above the rest still to retain. They all 

Him foUow'd, issuing forth to th' open field. 

Where all yet left of that revolted rout 

Heav'n-fall'n, in station stood or just array, 533 

Sublime with expectation when to see 

In triumph issuing forth their glorious chief: 

They saw, but other sight instead, a crowd 

Of ugly serpents. Horror on them fell. 

And horrid sympathy ; for what they saw, .540 

They felt themselves now changing. Down their 

arras, 
Down fell both spear and shield, down they as fast. 
And the dire hiss renew'd, and the dire form 
Catch 'd by contagion, like in punishment. 
As in their crime. Thus was th' applause they meant 
Turn'd to exploding hiss ; triumph to shame, 546 
Cast on themselves from their own mouths. There 

stood 
A grove hard by, sprung up with this their change. 
His will who reigns above, to aggravate 
Their penance, laden with fair fruit, like that 550 
Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve 
Used by the Tempter. On that prospect strange 
Their earnest eyes they fix'd, imagining 
For one forbidden tree a multitude 
Now risen, to work them further woe or shame ; 555 
Yet parch'd with scalding thirst and hunger fierce. 
Though to delude them sent, could not abstain. 
But on they roU'd in heaps, and up the trees 
Climbing, sat thicker than the snaky locks 
That curl'd Megaera. Greedily they pluck'd 560 

The fruitage, fair to sight, like that which grew 

527. Lucan, Phars. ix. 696. in which the account is given of 
Perseus slaying- the Gorg-on. — Ophiusa is an island in the Medi- 
terranean, which was deserted by its inhabitants, on account of 
the enormous multitude of serpents there. 

530. The Python was a serpent said to have sprung frcm the 
flime that was left after the Deucaliaji deluge. 
560. Megceruy one of the furies. 



BOOK X 243 

Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flamed ; 

This more delusive, not tlie touch, but taste 

Deceived : they fondly thinking to allay 

Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit 565 

Chew'd bitter ashes ; which th' offended taste 

With spatt'ring noise rejected. Oft they' assay'd, 

Hunger and thirst constraining, drugg'd as oft 

With hatefullest disrelish, writhed their jaws 

With soot and cinders fiU'd ; so oft they Ml 570 

Into the same illusion, not as Man 

Whom they triumph'd once lapsed. Thus were they 

plagued 
And worn with famin, long and ceaseless hiss, 
Till their lost shape, permitted, they resumed ; 
Yearly enjoiu'd, some say, to undergo 575 

This annual humbling- certain number'd days. 
To dash their pride, and joy for Man seduced. 
However, some tradition they dispersed 
Among the Heathen of their purchase got. 
And fabled how the Sei-pent, whom they call'd 580 
Ophion with Eurynome, the wide 
Encroaching Eve perhaps, had first the rule 
Of high Olympus, thence by Saturn driv'n 
And Ops, ere yet Dictaean Jove was born. 

Mean while, in Paradise the hellish pair 585 

Too soon arrived, Sin there in Pow'r before, 
Once actual, now in body, and to dwell 
Habitual habitant; behind her Death 
Close following, pace for pace, not mounted yet 
On his pale horse : to whom Sin thus began : 590 

562. It is said by Josephus that trees were to be seen about this 
devoted spot, which bore fruit delicious to tlie eye, but falling 
into ashes the moment it was touched. 

573. Bentley reads xvith thirst and famin dire. 

574. This idpa is supposed to have been taken from the old 
romances, or from Ariosto, Can. 43. st. 98 

581. So true it is that the most ancient mythologicr.1 fables bear 
evident traces of having originated in traditions derived from 
the scripture history. — Ophion, or the serpent, was undoubtedly 
Satan; ant Enrynome, or the ivide-rtding, must have referred 
to Eve, who was so calle-d from the ambitious desires with which 
she eat the forbidden fruit. — Jortin says, Milton took the idea 
from ApoUonius, i. 

586. Silt inpowW, that is, there was a possibility of its betraying 
man. Actual once, namely, when Adam really sinned ; and in 
body, when it became always present and active. 
590- Rev. vi. 8. 



244 PARADISE LOST. 

Second of Satan sprung, all-conqu'ring Death, 
What think'st thou of our empire now, tho* earu'd 
With travel difficult? Not hetter far 
Than still at Hell's dark threshold to' have sat watch, 
Unnamed, undreaded, and thyself half starved ? 595 

Whom thus the Sin-born monster answer'd soon : 
To me, who with eternal famine pine. 
Alike is Hell, or Paradise, or Heaven ; 
There best, where most with ravin T may meet ; 
Which here, tho' plenteous, ail too little seems 600 
To stuff this mav/, this vast unhide-bound corpse. 

To whom the incestuous mother thus reply'd: 
Thou therefore on these herbs, and fruits, and flow'rs, 
Feed first, on each beast next, and fish, and fowl, 
No homely morsels ; and whatever thing 605 

Tiie scythe of Time mows down, devour unspared ; 
Till I in Man, residing- through the race, 
His thoughts, his looks, words, actions, all infect, 
And season him thy last and sweetest prey. 

This said, they both betook them sev'ral ways, 610 
Both to destroy or uuimmortal make 
All kinds, and for destruction to mature 
Sooner or later ; which th' Almighty seeing. 
From his transcendent seat the Saints among, 
To those bright Orders utter'd thus his voice : 615 

See with what heat these dogs of Hell advance 
To waste and havoc yonder world, which I 
So fair and good created, and had still 
Kept in that state, had not the folly' of Man 
Let in these wasteful furies, who impute 620 

Folly to me ! So doth the prince of Hell 
And his adherents, that with so much ease 
1 sufl*er them to enter and possess 
A idace so heav'nly, and conniving seem 
To gratify my scornful enemies, 625 

That laugh as if, transported with some fit 
Of passion, I to them had quitted all, 
At random yielded up to tleir misrule. 
And know not that I call'd and drew them thither, 
My Hell-hounds, to lick up the draff and filth 630 
Which Man's polluting sin with taint hath shed 

601. Unhidt-boundf not filled out, with a skin hanging 
looBe uud flabby. 



BOOK X. 245 

On what was pure, till cramm'd and gorged, nigh 

With suck'd and glutted offal, at one sling [burst 

Of thy victorious arm, well -pleasing Son, 

Both Sin, and Death, and yawning Grave at last 635 

Thro' Chaos hurl'd, obstruct the mouth of Hell 

For ever, and seal up his ravenous jaws. 

Then Heav'n and Earth renew'd, shall be made pure 

To sanctity, that shall receive no stain : 

Till then, the curse pronounced on both pi'ecedes. 640 

He ended, and the heav'nly audience loud 
Sung Halleluiah, as the sound of seas. 
Through multitude that sung: Just are thy ways, 
Righteous are thy decrees on all thy works ; 
Who can extenuate thee ! Next, to the Son, 645 
Destined Restorer of mankind, by whom 
New Heav'n and Earth shall to the ages rise. 
Or down from Heav'n descend. Such was their song. 
While the Creator, calling foi'th by name 
His niighty Angels, gave them several charge, 650 
As sorted best with present things. The sun 
Had first his precept so to move, so shine. 
As might affect the earth with cold and heat 
Scarce tolerable ; and from the north to call 
Decrepit winter ; from the south to bring 655 

Solstitial summer's heat. To the blank moon 
Her office they prescribed ; to th' other five 
Their planetary motions and aspects 
In sextile, square, and trine, and opposite 
Of noxious efficacy, and when to join 660 

In synod unbenign ; and taught the fix'd 
Their influence malignant when to show'r. 
Which of them I'ising with the sun, or falling, 
Should prove tempestuous ; to the winds they set 
Their corners, when with bluster to confound 665 
Sea, air, and shore, the thunder when to roll 
With terror through the dark aereal hall. 
Some say, he bid his Angels turn askance 
The poles of earth twice ten degrees and more 
From the sun's axle ; they with labour push'd 670 
Oblique the centric globe. Some say, the sun 
Was bid turn reina from th' equinoctial road 

643. Rev. XV. 3. xvi. 7. 647. Rev. xxi. 2. 

666. Blank moon, like the French word blanc, white* 



246 PARADISE LOST. 

Like distant breadth to Taurus with the seTen 

Atlantic Sisters, and the Spartan Twins 

Up to the Tropic Crab ; thence down amain 675 

By Leo, and the Virgin, and the Scales, 

As deep as Capricorn, to bring- in change 

Of seasons to each clime ; else had the spring 

Perpetual smiled on earth with verdant llow'rs. 

Equal in days aiid nights, except to those d80 

Beyond the polar circles ; to them day 

Had unbenig-hted shone, while the low sun, 

To recompense his distance, in their sight 

Had rounded still th' horizon, and not known 

Or east or west, which had forbid the snow 685 

From cold Estotiland, and south as far 

Beneath Magellan. At that tasted fruit 

The sun, as from Thyestean banquet, turn'd 

His course intended ; else how had the world 

Inhabited, though sinless, more than now, 690 

Avoided pinching cold and scorching heat ? 

These changes in the Heav'ns, tho' slow, produced 

Like change on sea and land ; sideral blast, 

Vapour and mist, and exhalation hot. 

Corrupt and pestilent : now from the north 695 

Of Norumbega, and the Samoed shore, 

Bursting their brazen dungeon, arm'd with ice, 

And snow, and hail, and stormy gust, and flaw, 

Boreas, and C^cias, and Argestes loud, 

And Thrascias, rend the woods, and seas upturn; 700 

With adverse blast upturns them from the south 

Notus and Afer black, with thund'rous clouds 

From Serraliona. Thwart of these as fierce 

Forth rush the Levant and the Ponent winds, 

Eurus and Zephyr, with their lateral noise, 705 

Sirocco and Libecchio. Thus began 

Outrage from lifeless things ; but Discord, first, 

686. Estotiland, a country in North America, near Hudson's 
Bay. — Magellan, a part of South America. 

688. Thyestean bcmquel ; Thyestts is said to have been ban- 
queted by' Ills brother on the bodies of his murdered cliildren. 

696. Nornmheg a , a province of North America. — Saynoieda, a 
province of Muscovy. 

699. The names of the north, north-west, north-east, the south, 
and soi;th-west winds. — Serraliona, a range of mountains to the 
south-west of Africa. — Sirocco and Libecchio^ the south-east and 
south-wect winds. 



BOOK X. 247 ^S^ 

Daughter of Sin, among th' irrational. 
Death introduced, through fierce antipathy. 
Beast now with beast 'gan war, and fowl with fowl. 
And fish with fish ; to graze the herb allleaving, 711 
Devour'd each other ; nor stood much in awe 
Of man, but fled him, or with count'nance grim 
Glared on him passing. These were from without 
The growing miseries, which Adam saw 715 

Already' in part, though hid in gloomiest shade, 
To sorrow' abandon'd, but worse felt within ; 
And in a troubled sea of passion tost. 
Thus to disburden sought with sad complaint : 

O miserable of happy' ! Is this the end 720 

Of this new glorious world, and me so late 
The glory of that glory, who now, become 
Accursed of blessed, hide me from the face 
01 God, whom to behold was then my height 
Of happiness? Yet well, if here would end 725 

The misery. I deserved it, and would bear 
My own deservings ; but this will not serve ; 
All that t eat or drink, or shall beget. 
Is propagated curse ! O voice once heard 
Delightfully, ' Increase and multiply,' 7?0 

Now death to hear 1 For what can I increase 
Or multiply, but curses on my head ! 
Who, of all ages to succeed, but feeling 
The evil on him bi'ought by me, will curse 
My head ! Ill fare our ancestor impure ! 735 

For this we may thank Adam ! but his thanks 
Shall be the execration ! So besides 
Mine own that bide upon me, all from me 
Shall with a fierce reflux on me redound ; 
On me, as on their natural centre, light 740 

Heavy, though in their place. O fleeting joys 
Of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes ! 
Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay 
To mould me man 1 Did I solicit thee 
From darkness to pronaote me, or here place 745 
In this delicious garden? As my will 
Concurr'd not to my being, it were but right 
And equal to reduce me to my dust ; 

740. Bentley proposes to cut out the following ten lines as Ul> 
worthy of Milton's genius and a dttriinent to the poem. 



248 PARADISE LOST. 

Desirous to resign and render back 

All I received, unable to perform 750 

Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold 

The good I sought not. To the loss of that. 

Sufficient penalty, why hast thou added 

The sense of endless woes ! Inexplicable 

Thy justice seems ; yet, to say truth, too late 755 

T thus contest : then should have been refused 

Those terms whatever, when they were proposed. 

Thou didst accept them. Wilt thou' enjoy the good, 

Then cavil the conditions 1 And though God 

Made thee without thy leave, what if thy son 760 

Prove disobedient, and reproved, retort. 

Wherefore didst thou beget me ? I sought it not. 

Wouldst thou admit for his contempt of thee 

That proud excuse ? yet him not thy election, 

"But natural necessity begot. 765 

God made thee' of choice his own, and of his own 

To serve him : thy reward was of his grace ; 

Thy punishment then, justly', is at his will. 

Be' it so, for I submit : his doom is fair. 

That dust I am, and ?hall to dust return. 770 

O welcome hour whenever ! Why delays 

His hand to execute what his decree 

Fix'd on this day ? Why do T overlive, 

Why am I mock'd with death, and lengthen'd out 

To deathless pain ? How gladly would I meet 775 

Mortality, my sentence, and be earth 

Insensible I How glad would lay me down, 

A-s in my mother's lap ! There I should rest. 

And sleep secure ; his dreadful voice no more 

Would thunder in my ears ! No fear of worse 780 

To me and to my offspring- would torment me 

With cruel expectation ! Yet one doubt 

Pursues me still, lest all I cannot die ; 

Lest that pure breath of life, the spirit of Man 

Which God inspired, cannot together perish 785 

With this corporeal clod ! then m the grave. 

Or in some other dismal place, who knows 

But I shall die a living death i O thought 

Horrid, if true ! Yet why ? It was but breath 

Of life that sinn'd. What dies but what had life 7W 

And sin 1 the body, properly, hath neither. 

All of me then shall die. Let this appease 



BOOK X. 24D 

ITie doubt, since human reach no further knows ; 

For though the Lord of all be infinite. 

Is his wrath also 1 Be it, Man is not so, 795 

But mortal doom'd. How can he exercise 

Wrath without end on Man whom death must end 1 

Can he make deathless death 1 That were to make 

Strange contradiction, which to God himself 

Impossible is held ; as argument 800 

Of weakness, not of pow'r. Will he draw out. 

For anger's sake, finite to infinite 

In punish'd Man, to satisfy his rigour, 

Satisfy 'd never? That were to extend 

His sentence beyond dust and Nature's law, 805 

By which all causes else, according still 

To the reception of their matter, act ; 

Not to th' extent of their ov/n sphere. But say 

That death be not one stroke, as I supposed, 

Bereaving sense, but endless misery 810 

Prom this day onward, which I feel begun 

Both in me and without me, and so last 

To perpetuity ! Ah me ! that fear 

Comes tlmnd'ring back with dreadful revolution 

On my defenceless head ! Both Death and I 815 

Am found eternal, and incorporate both ! 

Nor I on my part single : in me all 

Posterity stands cursed ! Fair Patrimony 

That I must leave ye, Sons ! O were I able 

To waste it all myself, and leave ye none .' 820 

So disinherited, how would ye bless 

Me, now your curse ! Ah, why should all mankind 

For one man's fault thus guiltless be condemn 'd, 

If guiltless ? But from me what can proceed 

But all corrupt, both mind and will depraved ; 

Not to do only, but to will the same 826 

With me ! How can they then acquitted stand 

In sight of God ? Him, after all disputes 

Forced, I absolve. All my evasions vain. 

And reasonings, tho' through mazes, lead me still 830 

But to my own conviction. First and last 

On me, me only, as the source and spring 

Of all corruption, all the blame lights due : 

805. Jnst is proposed insteiid of dust, in this line. 

806. An incessant affectati. .i of school learning may be ns 
liiarked in every part of this passtige. 

816. Rom. vii. 20. 825. Rom. xiv. 4. 



250 PARADISE LuST. 

So niiglit the wrath. Fond wish ! couldst thou support 
That burden, heavier than the earth to bear, 835 
Than all the world much heavier, though divided 
With that bad Woman ! Thus, what thou desirest 
And what thou fear'st, alike destroys all hope 
Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable 
Beyond all past example and future : 84fl 

To Satan only like, both crime and doom. 

Conscience ! into what abyss of fears 

And horrors hast thou driven me ! out of which 

1 jftnd no way ! from deep to deeper plunged I 
Thus Adam to himself lamented loud 845 

Through the still night, not now, as ere Man fell, 

Wholesome, and cool, and mild, but with black air 

Accompany 'd, with damps and dreadful gloom, 

Which to his evil conscience represented 

All thing's with double terror. On the g-round 850 

Outstretch'd he lay, on the cold g-round, and oft 

Cursed his creation ; Death as oft accused 

Of tardy execution, since denounced 

The day of his offence. Why comes not Death, 

Said he, with one thrice-acceptable stroke, S55 

To end me ? Shall Truth fail to keep her word ! 

Justice divine not hasten to be just! 

But Death comes not at call ; Justice divine 

Mends not her slowest pace for pray'rs or cries ! 

woods, fountains, hiilocs, dales, and bow'rs, 860 
With other echo, late I taught your shades 

To answer, and resound far other song! 

Whom thus afflicted, when sad Eve beheld. 
Desolate where she sat, approaching- nigh. 
Soft woi'ds to his fierce passion she assa,y'd : 865 

But her with stern regard he thus repell'd : 

Out of my sight, thou Serpent ! that name best 
Befits thee v/ith him leagued, thyself as false 
And hateful! nothin- wants, but that thy shape 
Like his, and colour serpentiiie, may shew 870 

Thy inward fraud, to warn all creatures from thee 
Henceforth, lest that too heav'nly form, pretended 
To hellish falsehood, snare them. But for thee 

1 had persisted happy', had not thy pride 

And wand'rinj^ vanity, when least was safe, 875 

872. Pretended; in the Latin sense, held before* 



BOOK X, 261 

Rejected my forewarning", and disdained 
Not to be trusted, longing- to be seen 
Though by the Devil himself, him overweening 
To o'er-reach, hut with the Serpent meeting 
Fool'd and beguiled, by him thou, I by thee, 880 
To trust thee from my side, imagined wise, 
Constant, mature, proof against all assaults, 
And understood not all was but a show 
Rather than solid virtue'; all but a rib 
Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears, 885 

More to the part sinister, from me drawn, 
Well if thrown out, as supernumerary 
To my just number found. O why did God 
Creator wise, that peopled highest Heav'a 
With Spirits masculine, create at last 890 

This novelty on earth, this fair defect 
Of nature, and not fill the world at once 
With Men, as Angels, without feminine. 
Or find some other way to generate 
Mankind 1 This miscliief had not then befall'n, 895 
And more that shall befall, innumerable 
Disturbances on earth, through female snares. 
And straight conjunction with this sex : for either 
He never shall find out fit mate, but such 
As some misfortune brings him, or mistake ; 900 

Or wliom he wishes most shall seldom gain, 
Through her perverseness, but shall see her g-ain'd 
By a far worse ; or if she love, withheld 
By parents ; or his happiest choice too late 
Shall meet, already link'd and wedlock-bound 905 
To a fell adversary', his hate or shame : 
Which infinite calamity shall cause 
To human life, and household-peace confound. 

He added not, and from her turn'd. But Eve, 
Not so repulsed, with tears that ceased not flowing. 
And tresses all disorder'd, at his feet 911 

Fell humble, and embracing them, besought 
His peace ; and thus proceeded in her plaint: 

Forsake me not thus, Adam ! Witness, Heav'n, 
What love sincere, and rev'renfie in my heart 91 
I boar thee, and unweeting have offended, 
Untiai»pily deceived ! Thy suppliant 
^ beg^, and cla^p thy knees. Bereave me not. 



252 PARADISE LOST. 

Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid. 

Thy counsel in this uttermost distress, 920 

My only strength and stay. Forlorn of thee. 

Whither shall I betake me? where subsist? 

While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps, 

Between us two let there be peace ; both joining', 

As join'd in injuries, one enmity 925 

Against a foe by doom express assign'd us, 

That cruel Serpent. On me exercise not 

Thy hatred for this misery befall'n. 

On me already lost, me than thyself 

More miserable. Both have sinn'd ; but thou 930 

Against God only' ; I against God and thee. 

And to the place of judgment will return. 

There with my cries importune Heav'n, that all 

The sentence, from thy head removed, may light 

On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe I 935 

Me, me only, just object of his ire. 

She ended weeping ; and her lowly plight, 
Immoveable till peace obtain'd from fault 
Acknowledged and deplored, in Adam wrought 
Connnise ration. Soon his heart relented 940 

Tow'rds her, his life so late and sole delight, 
Now at his feet submissive in distress. 
Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking, 
His counsel, v/hom she had displeased, his aid ; 
As one disarm'd, his anger all he lost, 945 

And thus with peaceful words upraised her soon : 

Unwary' and too desirous, as before. 
So now of what thou know'st not, Avho desir*st 
The punishment all on thyself ; alas. 
Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain 950 

His full wrath, whose thou feel'st as yet least part. 
And my displeasure bear'st so ill. If pray'rs 
Could alter high decrees, I to that place 
Would speed before thee, and be louder heard. 
That on my head all might be visited ; 955 

Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiven, 
To me committed, and by me exposed. 
But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame 

940. It is said that Milton had a personal feeling in writing thii 
passao-e, and described his meeting and reconciliation with his 
wife who had been for some time separated from him. 



BOOK X. 25a 

Each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive 

In offices of love, how ^ve may lighten 960 

Each other's burden, in our share of woe ; 

Since this day's death denounced, if aught I see. 

Will prove no sudden, but a slow-paced evil, 

A long day's dying to augment our pain, 

And to our seed (O hnpless seed!) derived. 9d5 

To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, repiy'd : 
Adam> by sad experiment, I know 
How little weight my woi^ds with thee can iind, 
Found so en-one ous, thence by just event 
Found so unfortunate ! nevertheless, 970 

Restored by thee, vile as I am, to place 
Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain 
Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart 
Living or dying, from thee I will not hide 
What thoughts in my imquiet breast are risen, 9? 5 
Tending to some relief of our extremes, 
Or end, though sharp and sad, yet tolerable, 
As in our evils, and of easier choice. 
If care of our descent perplex us most, 
Which must be born to certain woe, devour'd 980 
By Death at last ; and miserable it is 
To be to othei-s cause @f misery, 
Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring 
Into this cursed world a woeful race ! 
That after wretched life, must be at last 935 

Food for so foul a monster! In thy pow'r 
It lies, yet ere conception, to prevent 
The race unblest, to being yet unbegot. 
Childless thou art, childless remain ; so Death 
Shall be deceived his glut, and with us two 990 

Be forced to satisfy his rav'nous maw. 
But if thou judge it hard and difficult. 
Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain 
From love's due rites, nuptial embraces sweet. 
And with desire to languish without hope, 995 

Before the present object languishing 
With like desire, which would be misery 
And torment less than none of what we dread. 
Then both ourselves and seed at once to free 
From what we fear for both let us make short; 1000 
Let us seek Death, or he not found, supply 



254 PARADISE LOST 

With our own hands his oflace on ourselves. 
Why stand we long-ei shivering under fears. 
That shew no end bixt death, and have the pow'r 
Of many ways to die, the shortest choosing, 1005 
Destruction with destruction to destroy? 

She ended here, or vehement despair 
Broke off the rest ; so much of death her thoughts 
Had entertain'd, as dyed her cheeks with pale. 
But Adam with such counsel nothing sway'd : 1010 
To better hopes his more attentive mind 
Labouring had raised, and thus to Eve replied : 

Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems 
To argue in thee something more sublime 
And excellent than what thy mind contemns ; 1015 
But self-destruction therefore sought, refutes 
That excellence thought in thee, and implies. 
Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret 
For loss of life and pleasure overloved. 
Or if thou covet death, as utmost end 102t 

Of misery, so thinking to evade 
The penalty pronounced, doubt not but God 
Hath wiselicr arm'd his vengeful ire than so 
To be forestall'd : much more I fear lest death 
So snatch'd will not exempt us from the pain 1025 
We are by doom to pay : rather such acts 
Of contumacy' will provoke the Highest 
To make death in us live. Then let us seek 
Some safer resolution, which methinks 
I have in view, calling to mind with heed 1030 

Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise 
The Serpent's head. Piteous amends ! unless 
Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe 
Satan, who in the serpent hath contrived 
Against us this deceit. To crush his head 1035 

Would be revenge indeed : which will be lost 
By death brought on ourselves, or childless days 
Resolved, as thou proposest ; so our foe 
Shall 'scape his punishment ordain'd, and we 
Instead, shall double ours upon our heads. 1040 

No more be mention'd then of violence 
Against ourselves, and wilful barrenness. 
That cuts us off from hope, and savours only 
Rancour and pride, impatience and despite. 
Reluctance against God and his just yoke 1043 



BOOK X 255 

Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild 

And gTacious temper he both heard and judged, 

Without wrath or reviling- ! We expected 

Immediate dissolution, which we thought 

Was meant by death that day ; when lo ! to thee 1050 

Pains only in child-bearing were foretold. 

And In-inging forth ; soon recompensed with joy. 

Fruit of thy womb. On me the curse aslope 

Glanced on the ground. With labour I must earn 

My bread. What harm? Idleness had been worse : 

My labour will sustain me. And lest cold 1056 

Or heat should injure us, his timely care 

Hath unbesought provided, and his hands 

Cloth'd us, unworthy, pitying while he judged ; 

How much more, if we pray him, will his ear 1060 

Be open, and his heart to pity' incline, 

And teach us farther by what means to shun 

Th' inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow ! 

Which now the sky wdth various face begins 

To shew us in this mountain, while the winds 1065 

Blow moist and keen, shatt'ring the graceful locks 

Of these fair spreading trees ; which bids us seek 

Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish 

Our limbs benumb'd, ere this diurnal star 

Leave cold the night, how we his gather'd beams 1070 

Reflected, may with matter sere foment, 

Or, by collision of two bodies, grind 

The air attrite to fire, as late the clouds 

Justling, or push'd with winds, rude in their shock. 

Tine the slant lightning, whose thwart ilame driv'n 

Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine, [down 

And sends a comfortable heat from far. 

Which might supply the sun. Such fire to use, 

And what may else be remedy or cure 

To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought, 1080 

He will instruct us praying, and of grace 

Beseeching him, so as we need not fear 

To pass commodiously this life, sustain'd 

By him with many comfoi'ts, till we end 

In dust: our final rest and native home. 1085 

What better can we do, than to the place 

Repairing where he judged us, prostrate fall 

1069. Diurnal star, the sun. 10-5. Ttne, to light or kindle. 



256 PARADISE LOST. 

Before him, reverent, and thet-e confess 
Humbly our faults, and pardon be_'-, with tears 
Watering- the ground, and with our sighs the air 10i>0 
Frequenting", sent from hearts contrite, in sign 
Of sorrow' unfeign'd, and humiliation meek ? 
Undoubtedly he will relent, and turn 
From his displeasure ; in whose look serene, 
When angry most he seem'd, and most severe, 1095 
What else but favour, grace, and mercy shone ? 

So spake our father penitent : nor Eve 
Felt less remorse. They forthwith to the place 
Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell 
Before him, reverent, and both confess'd 1100 

Humbly their faults, and pardon begg'd, with tears 
Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air 
Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 
Of sorrow' unfeign'd, and humiliation meek. 



BOOK XI. 
THE ARGUMENT. 



'Fhe Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our first 
parents, now repentinsr, and intercedes for theVn : God accepts 
them, but declares that tiiey must no longer abide In l\ara(Use; 
sends iNliehael with a band of Cherubim to dispossess llieni ; but 
first to reveal to Adam future things: Michael's coming down. 
Adam shews to Eve certain ominous signs ; he discerns Michael's 
approach; goes out to meet him : the Angel denounces their de- 
parture. Eve's lamentation. Adam pleads, but submits : The 
Ant'e! leads him up to a liigh hill ; sets before him in vision what 
shall happen till the Hood. 

Thus they in lowliest plight, repentant, stood 

Praying ; for from the mercy-seat above 

Prevenient grace descending, had removed 

The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh 

Regenerate grow instead, that sighs now breathed 5 

Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer 

Inspired, and wing'd for Heav'n Avith speedier flight 

Than loudest oratory : yet their port 

Not of mean suitors, nor important less 

Seem'd their petition, than when th' ancient pair 10 

In fables old, less ancient yet than these, 

1092. Hutniliation , the act of humbling, not humility. 
4. A verbal critic might I think find fault with tiiis and the fol 
lowing line, in which there are three words used to express one 
idea, new, regenerate, and instead. 




liJlTi Pai'arli.s 



BOOK XI. 257 

Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha, to restore 

The race of mankind drown'd, before the shrine 

Of 1 hemis stood devout. To Heav'n their pray'rs 

Flew up; nor niiss'd the way, by envious winds 15 

Blown vag-abond or frustrate. In they pass'd 

Dimensionless, through heav'nly doors ; then clad 

With incense, where the g'olden altar fumed, 

By their great Intercessor, came in sight 

Before the Father's throne : then the glad Son 20 

Presenting-, thus to intercede beg-an : 

See, Father, what first fruits on earth are sprung 
From thy implanted g'race in Man .' these sig'hs 
And pray'rs, which in this golden censer, mix'd 
With incense, I thy priest before thee bring: 2S> 

Fruits of more pleasing- savour from thy seed 
Sown with contrition in his heart, than those 
Which his own hand manuring*, ail the trees 
Of Paradise could have produced, ere fallen 
From innocence. Now therefore bend thine ear 30 
To supplication ; hear his sighs though mute. 
Unskilful with what v*"ords to pray, let me 
Interpi-et for him, me his Advocate 
And propitiation. All his v/crks on me, 
Good or not good, ingraft ; my merit those 35 

Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay. 
Accept me, and in me from these receive 
The smell of peace tow'rd mankind. Let him live 
Before thee reconciled, at least his days 
Number'd. tbo' sad, tiJl dtath, his doom (which 1 40 
To mitig'ate thus plead, not to reverse; 
To better life shall yield him ; where with me 
All my redeem'd may dwell in joy and bliss ; 
Made one with me as I with thee am one. 

To whom the Father, without cloud, serene : 45 
All thy request for Man, accepted Son, 
Obtain : all thy request was my di'.cree. 
But longer in that Paradise to dwell, 

12. Deucalion ard his wife, it is said by the poets, were th-? 
only reniajiis of the human race left after 'the Hood, which hap- 
pened in their time. This fable had evidently its origin in a tra- 
ditionary account of the g-reat deluge. — Themis was the godtlto* 
of justice. See Ovid, Met. i. 318. 

16. Vagabond, from the Latin vago, to wander. 

33. 1 John ii. 1, 2, ' 38. Levit. iii, J-- 

44. John xvii. 21, 22. 



258 Pi^RADlSE LOST. 

The law I g'ave to nature him forbids : 

Those pure immortal elements that know 50 

No gross, no unharmonious mixture foul, 

Eject him, tainted now, and purge him off 

As a distemper, gross to air as gross ; 

And mortal food, as may dispose him best 

For dissolution wrought by sin, that first 55 

Distemper'd all things, and of incorrupt 

Corrupted. I at first with two fair gifts 

Created him endow'd ; with happiness 

And immortality : that fondly lost. 

This other served but to eternize woe ; 60 

Till I provided death ; so death becomes 

His final remedy, and after life. 

Tried in sharp tribulation, and refined 

By faith and faithful works to second life, 

Waked in the renovation of the just 65 

Resigns him up with Heav'n and Earth renewed. 

But let us call to synod all the Blest 

Through Heav'n's wide bounds; from them I will 

not hide 
My judgments, how with mankind T proceed, 
As how with peccant Angels late they saw, 70 

And in tlieir state, tho' firm, stood more confirm'd. 

He ended; and the Son gave signal high 
To the bright minister that watch 'd. He blew 
His trumpet (heard in Oreb since, perhaps, 
When Gcd descended, and perhaps once more 75 
To sound at general doom) : th' angelic blast 
Fill'd all the regions. From their blissful bow'rs 
Of amarantine shade, fountain or spring, 
By the waters of life, where'er they sat 
In fellowships of joy, the sons of light 80 

Hasted, resorting to the summons high, 
And took their seats ; till from his throne supreme 
Th' Almighty thus pronounced his Sov'reign will : 

O Sons ! like one of us Man is become. 
To know both good and evil, since his taste 85 

Of that defended fruit! but let him boast 
His knowledge of good lost, and evil got : 

74. Exod. xx. 18.. 1 Thess. iv. 16. 

82. Rev. iv. 4. xi. 16. Matt. xix. 28. 84. Gen. iii. 22—34. 

86. Defended, like the French defendret to forbid. 



BCOK XL 259 

Happier, had it sufficed him to have known 

(jood by itself, and evil not all. 

He sorrows now, repents, and prays contrite, 90 

My motions in him. Longer than they move. 

His heart I know, how variable and vain 

Self-left. Lest therefore his now bolder hand 

Reach also of the tree of life, and eat. 

And live for ever (dream at least to live 95 

For ever) to remove him I decree. 

And send him from the garden forth to till 

The ground whence he was taken : titter soil. 

Michael, this my behest have thou in charge : 
Take to thee from among the Cherubim 100 

Thy choice of flaming warriors, lest the Fiend, 
Or in behalf of Man, or to invade 
Vacant possession, some new trouble raise. 
Haste thee, and from the Paradise of God, 
Without remorse, drive out the sinful pair 105 

(From hallow'd ground th' unholy), and denounce 
To them and to their progeny, from thence 
Perpetual banishment. Yet, lest they faint 
At the sad sentence rigorously urged, 
For I behold them soften'd, and with tears 110 

Bewailing their excess, all terror hide. 
If patiently thy bidding they obey, 
Dismiss them not disconsolate. Reveal 
To Adam what shall come in future days. 
As 1 shall thee enlighten. Intermix 115 

My cov'nant in the Woman's seed renew'd ; 
So send them forth, tho' sorrowing, yet in peace : 
And on the east side of the garden place, 
Where entrance up from Eden easiest climbs, 
Cherubic watch, and of a sword the flame 120 

Wide-waving, all approach far off to fright, 
And guard all passage to the tree of life. 
Lest Paradise a receptacle prove 

To spirits foul, and all my trees their prey, 124 

With whose stol'n fruit Man once more to delude. 

He ceased ; and th' Archangelic Pow'r prepared 
For swift descent, with him the cohort bright 
Of watchful Cherubim. Four faces each 
Had, like a double Janus : all their shape 
128. Ezek. X. 14« 



200 PARADISE LOST. 

^>pangled with eyes, more numerous than those 13( 
Of Arg-us, and more wakeful than to drowse, 
Charm'd with Arcadian pipe, the pastoral reed 
Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. Mean while 
To re-salute the world with sacred light, 
Leacothea waked, and with fresh dews imbalm'd 135 
The Earth ; when Adam and (first matron) Eve 
Had ended now their orisons, and found 
Strength added from above, new hope to spring 
Out of despair, joy, but with fear yet link'd : 
Which thus to Eve his welcome words renew'd : 140 

Eve, easily may faith admit, that all 
The good which we enjoy, from Heav'n desceuds ; 
But that from us aught should ascend to Heav'n 
So prevalent as to concern the mind 
Of God high-blest, or to incline his will, 145 

Hard to belief may seem; yet this will prayer, 
Or one short sigh of human breath, Tipborne 
Ev'n to the seat of God ! For since I sought 
By prayer th' offended Deity to' appease, 
Kneel'd, and before him humbled all my heart, 150 
Methought I saw him placable and mild. 
Bending his ear! Persuasion in me grew 
That I was heard with favour ! Peace return'd 
Home to my breast, and to my memory 
His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe ; 155 
Which then not minded in dismay, yet now 
Assures me that the bitterness of death 
Is past, and we shall live ! Whence hail to thee, 
Eve (rightly call'd) mother of all mankind, 
Mother of all things living; since by thee 160 

Man is to live, and all things live for Man i 

To whom thus Eve, with sad demeanour meek : 
111 v/orthy I such title should belong- 
To me transgressor, who, for thee ordain'd 
A help, became thy snare ! To me reproach 165 

131. Argus, it is said, was lulled to sleep, and then killed by 
Mercurv. 

135. Leucothea; the morning-, so railed from two Greek wordj 
gignifying light and goddess. This is the last niornir."- in the 
poem, and is supposed to be the conjmencenieut of the eleventh 
day in the action on earth. 

157. 1 Sam. XV. 32. 

159. Gen. iii. 20. Eve is from an Hebrew word signifying 

lifef or to live. 



BOOK XT. 261 

Rather belongs, distrust, and all dispraise I 

But infinite in pardon was my Judge, 

That I, who first brought death on all, am graced 

The source of life ; next favourable thou, 

Who highly thus to' entitle me vouchsaf'st, 170 

Far other name deserving. But the field 

To labour calls us, now with sweat imposed, 

Though after sleepless night; for, see, the morn. 

All uiiconcern'd v/ith our unrest, begins 

Her rosy progress smiling: let us forth, 175 

I never from thy side henceforth to stray, 

Where'er our day's work lies, though now enjoin 'd 

Laborious, till day droop. While here we dwell. 

What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks ? 

Here let us live, though in fall'n state, content. 180 

So spake, so wish'd inuch-humbled Eve, but Fa'^e 
Subscribed not. Nature first gave signs, impressed 
On bird, beast, air, air suddenly eclipsed 
After short blush of morn. Nigh in her sight 
The bii'd of Jove, stoop'd from his aery tour, 185 

Two birds of gayest plume before him drove. 
Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, 
First hunter then, pursued a gentle brace. 
Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind: 
Direct to th' eastern gate Avas bent their flight. 190 
Adam observed, and with his eye the chase 
Pursuing, not unmoved, to Eve thus spake : 

Eve, some further change awaits us nigh. 
Which Heav'n by these mute signs in nature shews, 
Forerunners of his purpose, or to warn 195 

Us haply, too secure of our discharge 
From penalty, because from death released 
Some days. How long, and what till then our life 
Who knows, or more than this, that we are dust, 
And thither must return, and be no more ? 200 

VVhy else this double object in our sight 
Of flight pursued in th' air, and o'er the ground 
One way the self-same hour? Why in the east 
Darknest ere day's mid-course, and morning light 
More orient in yon western clomd, that draws 2Qh 
O'er the blue firmament a radiant white, 

182. Subscribed not, consented not. 
204. See Marino, Can. 2. st. 6' . 



262 PARADISE LOST. 

And slow descends,witli sometliing- heav nly fraught ? 

He eri''d not ; for by this tlie heav'nly bands 
Down from a sky of jasper lighted now 
In Paradise, and on a hill made halt, 210 

A glorious apparition, had not doubt 
And carnal fear that day dimm'd Adam's eye. 
Not that more glorious, v^hen the Ang-els met 
Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw 
The field pavilion'd with his g-uardians bright ; 215 
Nor that which on the flaming- mount appear'd 
In Dothan, cover'd with a camp of fire, 
Ag-ainst the Syrian king, who, to surprise 
One man, assassin-like, had levied war. 
War unproclaim'd. The princely Hierarcli 220 

In their bright stand there left his Povv'rs to seize 
Possession of the garden : he alone. 
To find where Adam shelter'd, took his way, 
Not iinperceived of Adam, who to Eve, 
While the great visitant approach 'd, thus spake : U!?.5 

Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps 
Of us will soon determine, or impose 
New laws to be observed ; for I descry 
From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill, 
One of the heav'nly host, and by his gait 230 

None of the meanest, some great Potentate 
Or of the Thrones above, such majesty 
Invests his coming; yet not terrible, 
That I should fear, nor sociably mild, 
As Raphael, that I should much confide, 235 

But solemn and sublime ; whom not to' oflend. 
With reverence I must meet, and thou retire. 

He ended : and th' Arch-Angel soon drew nigh. 
Not in his shape celestial, but as man 
Clad to meet man. Over his lucid arms 240 

A military vest of purple flow'd. 
Livelier than Meliboean, or the grain 
Of Sarra, worn by kings and heroes old 
In time of truce ; Iris had dipt the woof; 
His starry helm unbuckled, shew'd him prime 245 

213. Gen. xxxii. 1,2. 2 Kiii2:s vi. l.'i. 

242. The famous scarlet dye celebrated ainonj? the ancisiits waj 

made from a fish called ost'rum, found near Melibma, a oit)' of 

Thessaly. — Sar was the name of the fish of which the riicenicians 

made the famous Tyrian purple. 



B }0K XI. 263 

In manhood where youth ended. By his side, 
As in a glist'ring zodiac, hung- the sword, 
Satan's dire dread, and in his hand the spear. 
Adam bow'd low : He, kingly, from his state 
Inclined not, but his coming- thus declared : 250 

Adam, Heav'n's high behest no preface needs : 
Sufficient that thy pray'rs are heard, and Death, 
Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress. 
Defeated of his seizure, many days 
Giv'n thee of grace, wherein thou raay'st repent, 255 
And one bad act, with many deeds well done, 
May'st cover : well may then thy Lord, appeased. 
Redeem thee quite from Death's rapacious claim ; 
But longer in this Paradise to dwell 
Permits not. To remove thee I am come, 260 

And send thee from the g-arden forth to till 
The g-round, whence thou wast taken; fitter soil. 

He added not ; for Adam at the news 
Heart-struck, with chilling- gripe of sorrow stood. 
That all his senses bound. Eve, who unseen 265 
Yet all had heard, with audible lament, 
Discover'd soon the place of her retire. 

O unexpected stroke, worse than of Death i 
Must I thus leave thee. Paradise ! thus leave 
Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades, 270 
Fit haunt of Gods ! where I had hope to spend, 
Quiet though sad, the respite of that day 
That must be mortal to us both ! O flow'rs. 
That never will in other climate grow. 
My early visitation, and my last 275 

At e'en, which I bred up with tender hand 
From the first opening bud, and ga^^e ye names, 
Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank 
Your tribes, and water from th* ambrosial fount 1 
Thee lastly, nuptial bower by me adorn'd 280 

With what to sight or smell v/as sweet, from thee 
How shall I part, and whither wander down 

281. The rejtetition of the messag-e in the same words in which 
It was given is common in classical writers, and, it may be added, 
in those of Scripture al^^o. 

2t>8. It has been excellently remarked by Addison, that there is 
gT; at beai'.ty in Eve's thus exprest-ing' her sorrow at leaving the 
garden of Paradise. Fitness and aW the beauties of propriety are 
iiiJctd to be found in every line of this part rf the poem. 



264 PARADISE LOST, 

Into a lower world, to tliis obscure 

And wild I How shall we breathe in other air, 

Less pure, accustom'd to immortal fruits ! 285 

Whom thus the Angel interrupted mild : 
Lament not. Eve, but patiently resign 
What justly thou hast lost ; nor set thy heart, 
Thus over-fond, on that which is not thine ; 
Thy going' is not lonely ; with thee goes 2S0 

Thy husband ; him to follow thou art bound. 
Where he abides, think, there thy native soil. 

Adam by this from the cold sudden damp 
Ilecov'ring, and his scatter'd spirits return'd. 
To Michael thus his humble words address'd : 295 

Celestial, whether among the Thrones, or named 
Of them the high'st, for such of shape may seem 
Prince above princes, gently hast thou told 
Thy message, which might else in telling wound, 
And in performing end us. What besides 300 

Of sorrow, and dejection, and despair. 
Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring. 
Departure from this happy place, our sweet 
Recess, and only consolation left 
Familiar to our eyes, all places else 305 

Inhospitable' appear and desolate ; 
Nor knowing us nor known : and if by prayer 
Incessant I could hope to change the will 
Of Him who all things can, I Avould not cease 
To weary him with my assiduous cries. 310 

But prayer against his absoiate decree 
No more avails than breath against the wind, 
Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth : 
Therefore to his great bidding I submit. 
This most afflicts me, that departing hence, 315 

As from his face I shall be hid, deprived 
His blessed count'nance. Here I could frequent 
With worship place by place where he vouchsafed 
Presence divine, and to my sons relate, 
On this mount he appear'd; under this tree 320 

Stood visible ; among these pines his voice 
I heard ; here with him at this fountain talk'd. 
So many grateful altars I would rear 
Of grassy tvirf, and pile up every stone 
Of lustre from the brook, in' memory 325 



BOOK XL 26S 

Or monument to ages, and thereon 

Oifer sweet-smelling- g-ums, and fruits, and flow'ra. 

In yonder nether world, where shall I seek 

His bright appearances, or foot-step trace ? 

For though I fled him angry, yet re-call'd 330 

To life prolong-'d and promised race, I now 
Cladly behold, thoug-h but his utmost skirts 
Of g-lory, and far off his steps adore. 

To whom thus Michael, with regard benig-n : 
Adam, thou know'st Heav'n his, and all the Earth, 
Not this rock only'. His omnipresence fills 336 

La]id, sea, and air, and every kind that lives. 
Fomented by his vii'tual pow'r and warm'd. 
All th' earth he gave thee to possess and rule : 
No despicable gift : surmise not then 340 

His presence to these narrow bounds confined 
Of Paradise or Eden. This had been 
Perhaps thy capital seat, from whence had spread 
All generations, and had hither come 
From all the ends of th' earth, to celebrate 345 

And rev'rence thee, their great progenitor. 
Rut this pre-eminence thou'st lost; brought down 
^JliL^dwell on even ground now with thy sons. 
^Yet doubt not, but in valley and in plain 
^^od is as here, and will be found alike 350 

Present, and of his presence many a sign 
Still following thee, still compassing thee round 
With goodness and paternal love, his face 
Express, and of his steps the track divin^-i-' 
Which, that thou may'st believe, aiidbe confirm'd 
Ere thou from hence depart, know I am sent 356 
To shew thee what shall come in future days 
To thee and to thy offspring. Good with bad 
Expect to hear, supernal grace contending 
With sinixilness of men ; thereby to learn 360 

True patience, and to temper joy with fear 
And pious sorrow, equally inured 
By moderation either state to bear. 
Prosperous or adverse : so shalt thou lead 
Safest thy life, and, best prepared, endure 36/ 

Thy mortal passage when it comes. Ascend 
This hill. Let Eve (for I have drench'd her eyes; 
332. Exod. xxxiii. 22, 23. 

N 



266 PARADISE LOST. 

Here sleep below, while thou to foresight wak'st ; 

As once thou sleptst, while she to life was form'd. 

To whom thus Adam g-iatefully reply'd : 37C 

Ascend , I follow thee, safe Ouide, the path 
Thou lead'st me', and to the hand of Heav'n submit, 
However chasfning, to the evil turn 
My obvious breast, arming to overcome 
By suff'ring, and earn rest from labour won, 375 
If so I may attain. So both ascend 
In the visions of God. It was a hill 
Of Paradise the highest, from whose top 
The hemisphere of earth in clearest ken 
Stretch'd out to th' amplest reach of prospect lay. 
Not higher that hill nor wider, looking round, 381 
Whereon for diff'rent cause the Tempter set 
Our second Adam in the wilderness, 
To shew him all earth's kingdoms and their glory. 
His eye might there command wherever stood 385 
City of old or modern fame, the seat 
Of mightiest empire, from the destined walls 
Of Cambalu, seat of Cathaian Can, 
And Sam arc and by Ox us, Temir's throne, 
To Paquin of Sina^an kings, and thence 390 

To Agra and Lahore of great Mogul, 
Down to the golden Chersonese, or where 
The Persian in Ecbatan sat, or since 
In H Ispahan, or where the Russian Czar 
In Moscow, or the Sultan in Bizance, 395 

Turchestan-born ; nor could his eye not ken 
Th' empire of Negus to his utmost port 
Ercoco, and the less maritime kings. 
Mom baza, and Quiloa, and Melind, i 

381. Matt. iv. 8. ^■'^ 

387. There is here another instance of Milton's supposed affec 
tation of learning'. I <lo not conceive either this, or any of the 
other passages mentioned, to be so. To a mere cursory or id e 
reader it may seem a dry geographical catalogue, but it should 
be observed, that the countnce mentioned recall by their names 
some of the most brilliant passasres of history, and thus fill the 
page with the jrorgeousness and maarnificence of olden tradition. 
An observation hence occurs, which must at once strike the 
reader, that fullv to enjoy Milton in all his excellences, much 
various knowledge is necessary. The simplest account we could 
here srive of the several countries mentioned in these lines would 
occupy too large a space for the size of the work, and would 
certainly not aid the reader in understanding better than at first 
the various allusions the passage preseuts. 



BOOK XI. 267 

A^nd Sofala, thought Ophir, to the realm 40* 

Of Cong-o, and Ang-ola farthest south; 

Or thence from Niger flood to Atlas mount. 

The kingdoms of Almansor, Fez, and Sus, 

Morocco, and Algiers, and Tremisen; 

On Europe thence, and where Rome was to sway 

The world. In spirit perhaps he also saw 406 

Rich Mexico, the seat of lUonte/Aime, 

And Cusco in Peru, the richer seat 

Of Atabalipa, and yet unspoil'd 

Guiana, whose great city Geryon's sons 410 

Call El Dorado : but to nobler sights 

Michael from Adam's eyes the film removed. 

Which that false fruit, that promised clearer sight, 

Had bred ; then purged with euphrasy and rue 

The visual nerve, for he had much to see ; 415 

And from the well of life three drops instill'd. 

So deep the pcw'r of these ingredients pierced, 

E'en to the inmost seat of mental sight, 

That Adam, now enforced to close his eyes. 

Sunk down, and all his spirits became entranced ; 

But him the gentle Angel by the hand 42! 

Soon raised, and his attention thus recall'd: 

Adam, now ope thine eyes, and first behold 
Th' eifects which thy original crime hath wi'ought 
In some to spring from thee, who never touch'd 425 
Th' excepted tree, nor with the snake conspired. 
Nor sinn'd thy sin ; yet from that sin derive 
Corruption, to bring forth more violent deeds. 

His eyes he open'd, and beheld a field. 
Part arable and tilth, whereon were sheaves 430 
New reap'd, the other part sheep-walks and folds ; 
I' th' midst an altar as the land-mark stood. 
Rustic, of grassy sord. Thithe^r anon 
A sweaty reaper from his tillage brought 
First fi'uits ; the green ear and the yellow sheaf, 435 
Uncull'd, as came to hand. A shepherd next, 
More meek, came with the firstlings of his flock 

414. Euphrasy, the herb called in En^listi eye-hright. — Rue is 
Btill regarded as poscessing- some remarkable virtues. 

420. Dan. X. 8. the idea in which seems to be copied here. 

433. Sord or sward. Milton ag-rees witli the best commenta- 
tors in the filling up of this passage, which is principally taken 
frou. Scripture. 



268 PARADISE LOST. 

Choicest and best ; then sacrificing", laid 
The inwards and their fat, with incense strow'd, 
On the cleft wood, and all due rites perforni'd, 44C 
His oif'ring- soon propitious lire fiom Heav'ii 
Consumed ; with Jiimble glance and grateful steam • 
The other's not, for his Vv^as not sincei'e ; 
Whereat he iuly raged, and as they talk'd, 
Smote him into the midriiT with a stone 415 

That beat our life, lie fell, and, deadly pale, 
Groan'd out his soul with gushing blood effused. 
Much at that sight was Adam in his heai't 
Dismay'd ; and thus in haste to th' Angel cry'd : 

O Teacher, some g"eat mischief hath befall'n 45P 
To that meek man, who well had sacrificed! 
Is piety thus and pure devotion paid? 

T' whom Michael thus (he also moved) reply'd : 
These two are bretViren, Adam, and to come 
Out of thy loins. Th' iinjust the just hath slain, 453 
For envy that his brother's off 'ring found 
From Heav'n acceptance : but the bloody fact 
Will be avenged, and th' other's faith approve \ 
Lose no reward, though hei-e thou see him die 
Rolling- in dust and gore. To which our sire : 4(10 

Alas ! both for the deed and for the cause ! 
But have I now seen Death ? Is this the way 
I must return to native dust? O sight 
Of teri'or, foul and ugly to behold I 
Horrid to think ! how horrible to feel ! 4Gi 

To whom tlius Michael : Death thou hast seen 
In his first shape on Man : but many shapes 
Of Death, and many are the vv^ays that lead 
To his grim cave, all dismal : yet to sense 
IVIore terrible at th' entrance than within. 47C 

Some, as thou saw'st, by violent stroke shall die, 
By fire, flood, famine, by intemp'rance more 
In meats and drinks, which on the earth shall bring 
Diseases dire, of which a monsti'ous crew 
Before thee shall appear; that thou may'st know 
What misery th' inabstinence of Eve 4?€ 

Shall bring on men. Immediately a place 

458. Heb. xi. 4. 

477. The invention of the poet is finely exercised in the 

circumstances of this vision. 



BOOK XL 2b& 

Before his eyes appear'd, sad, noisome, dark, 
A iazai'-hoiise it seem'd, wheiein were laid 
Numbers of all diseased, all maladies 4S0 

Of ghastly spasm or racking- torture, qualms 
Of heart-sick agony, all fev'rous kinds, 
Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs, 
Intestine stone and ulcer, colic pangs, 
Demoniac frenzy, naoping melancholy, 485 

And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy, 
Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence, 
Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums. 
Dire was the tossing, deep the groans ; Despair 
Tended the sick, busiest, from couch to couch ; 490 
And over them triumphant Death his dart 
Shook, but delay'd to strike, though oft invoked 
With vows, as their chief good and final hope. 
Sight so deform, what heart of rock could long 
Dry-eyed behold! Adam could not, but Avept, 495 
Though not of woman born. Compassion quell'd 
His best of man, and gave him up to tears 
A space, till firmer thoughts restrain'd excess ; 
And, scarce recov'ring words, his plaint renew'd. 

O miserable mankind ! to what fall 500 

Degraded ! to what wretched state reserved ! 
Better end here unborn". Why is life given 
To be thus wrested from us ? Rather, why 
Obtruded on us thus 1 who if we knew 
What we receive, would either not accept 505 

Life offer'd, or soon beg to lay it down. 
Glad to be so dismiss'd in peace. Can thus 
The image of God, in man created once 
So goodly and erect, though faulty since. 
To such unsightly sufF'rings be debased 510 

Under inhuman pains ? Why should not man, 
Retaining still divine similitude 
In part, from such deformities be free, 
And for his Maker's image sake exempt ? 

Their Maker's image, answer'd Michael, then 515 
Forsook them when themselves they vilify'd 
To serve ungovern'd appetite, and took 

517. There is a considerable error, I ima<rine, in the ideas thus 

Eat into the mouth of Michael. By -supposing Eve swayed, as 
ere said, by a brutish vice, the coiisequences of the fall and th« 



270 PARADISE LOST. 

His iraage whom they served (a brutish vice) 

fnductii^e mainly to the sin of Eve, 

Therefore, so abject is their punishment, 520 

Disfiguring- not God's likeness, but their own, 

Or, if his likeness, by themselves defaced. 

While they pervert pure Nature's healthful rules 

To loathsome sickness, worthily, since they 

God's image did not rev'rence in themselves. 525 

I yield it just, said Adam, and submit. 
But is there yet no other way, besides 
These painful passages, how we may come 
To death, and mix v/ith our connatural dust ? 

There is, said Michael, if thou well observe 530 
The rule of not too much, by Temp 'ranee taught. 
In what thou eat'st and drink 'st, seeking from thence 
Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight. 
Till many years over thy head retuni : 
So may'st thou live till, like ripe fruit, thou drop 535 
Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease 
Gather'd, not harshly pluck'd, for death mature. 
This is old age ;**but then thou must outlive 
Thy youthjthy strength, thy beauty, which will change 
To wither'd, weak, and grey. Thy senses then 540 
Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forego. 
To what thou hast ; and for the air of youth. 
Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign 
A melancholy damp of cold and dry. 
To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume 545 
The balm of life. To v/hom our ancestor : 

Henceforth I fly not death, nor would prolong 
Life much, bent rather how I may be quit, 
Fairest and easiest, of this cumb'rous charge. 
Which I must keep till my appointed day 550 

Of rend'ring up, and patiently attend 
My dissolution. Michael replied : 



corrujUion which it produced are anticipated. There is not suffi- 
cient aiithoriiy in Scripture for this strong- introduction of low 
sensual feeling-, as the whole passag-e in which the fall is lehUed 
turns upon the strontr desire felt by Eve to become as the aods, 
accomplished in ihe^ knowledge of g-ood and evil. 1 am a little 
surprised Milton's connuentaiors have not remarked this. — See 
Gen. iii. 5, 6. 

552. In the first edition it was, Of rendering up, Michael to htm 
replied. 



BOOK XI. 251 

Nor love thy life, nor hate ; but what thou liv'st 
Live well ; how long or short permit to Heav'n. 
And now prepare thee for another sight. 555 

He looked, and saw a spacious plain, whereon 
Were tents of various hue : by some were herds 
Of cattle grazing- ; others, whence the sound 
Of instruments that made melodious chime 
Was heard, of harp and organ, and who moved 560 
Their stops and chords, was seen. His volant touch 
Instinct, through all proportions low and high, 
Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue. 
In other part stood one who, at the forge 
Labouring, two massy clods of iron and brass 565 
Had melted (whether found where casual fire 
Had wasted woods on mountain or in vale, 
Down to the veins of earth, thence gliding hot 
To some cave's mouth, or whether wash'd by stream 
From under ground) : the liqiiid ore he drain'd 570 
Into fit moulds prepared ; from which he form'd 
First his own tools ; then, what might else be wrought 
Fusile, or gTav'n in metal. After these. 
But on the hither side, a different sort 
From the high neighb'ring hills, which was their seat, 
Down to the plain descended. By their guise, 576 
Just men they seem'd, and all their study bent 
To worship God aright, and know his works 
Not hid, nor those things last which might preserve 
Freedom and peace to men. They on the plain 580 
Long had not walk'd, when from the tents, behold, 
A bevy of fair women, richly gay 
In g:ems and wanton dress. To th' harp they sung 
Soft amorous ditties, and in dance came on. 
The men, tho' grave, eyed them, and let their eyes 5&H 
Rove without rein, till in the amorous net 
Fast caught, they liked, and each his liking chose : 

557. Gen. iv. 20—22. 

573. FusU, cast in niouids. The account of the descendants of 
Scth is partly derived from Scripture, and partly from otiier 
sources. 

582. In allusion to the union mentioned in Scripture, which the 
sons of God, or the descendants of his true worshippers, formed 
with the dai^;?hters of Cain's posterity. See Gen. vi. 1, 2. That 
the S07IS of Cod meant celt^stial beings, an idea once sup]>orted 
)y some divines, and that on which Mr. Moore has founded his 
^(oem of the Loves of the Angels, has been long- ag-o an exploded 
'\ipposition. 

T 



272 PARADISE LOST. 

And now of love they treat, till tU' ev'ring star. 

Love's harbinger, appear'd ; then all in heat 

They light the nuptial torch, and bid invoke 590 

Hymen, then first to marriage rites invoked. 

With feast and music all the tents resound. 

Such happy interview and fair event 

Of love and youth not lost, songs, garlands, flow'rs, 

And charming symphonies, attach'd the heart 595 

Of Adam, soon inclined t' admit delight. 

The bent of nature ; which he thus express'd : 

True opener of mine eyes, prime Angel blest, 
Much better seems this vision, and more hope 
Of peaceful days portends, than those two past: 600 
Those were of hate and death, or pain much worse ; 
Here Nature seems falfill'd in all her ends. 

To whom thus Michael : Judge not what is best 
By pleasure, though to nature seeming- meet, 
Created, as thou art, to nobler end, 605 

Holy and pure, conformity divine. 
Those tents thou saw'st so pleasant, were the tents 
Of wickedness, wherein shall dwell his race 
Who slew his brother. Studious they appear 
Of arts that polish life, inventors rare, 610 

Unmindful of their Maker, though his Spirit 
Taught them ; but they his gifts acknowledged none : 
Yet they a beauteous offspring- shall beget ; 
For that fair female troop thou saw'st, that seem'd 
Of Goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, 615 

Yet empty of all good, wherein consists 
Woman's domestic honour and chief praise ; 
Bred only and completed to the taste 
Of lustful appetence, to sing^, to dance, 
To dress, and trollthe tongue, and roll the eye. 620 
To these that sober race of men, whose lives 
Religious, titled them the sons of God, 
Shall yield up all their virtue, all their fame, 
Ignobly, to the trains and to the smiles 
Of these fair atheists, and now swim in joy, 025 

Ere long to swim at large ; and laugh, for which 
The world ere long a world of tears must weep. 

To whom thus Adam Cof short joy bereft) : 
O pity' and shame, that they who to live well 
614. For that i As for that. 



^00 k: XL 273 

Enter'd so fair, should turn aside to tread 630 

Paths indirect, or in the mid-way faint ! 
But sti'l I see the tenor of Man's woe 
Holds on the same, from Woman to begin. 

From Man's effeminate slackness it begins, 
Said th' Angel, who should better hold his place 635 
By wisdom, and superior g-ifts received. 
But now prepare thee for another scene. 

He look'd, and saw wide territory spread 
Before him ; towns and rural works between, 
Cities of men, with lofty gates and tow'rs, 640 

Cfincourse in arms, fierce faces threat'ning- war. 
Giants of mighty bone, and bold emprise : 
Part wield their arms, part curb the foaming steed, 
Single or in array of battle rang-ed 
Both horse and foot ; nor idly must'ring* stood. 645 
One way a band select, from forage drives 
A herd of beeves, fair oxen and fair kine, 
From a fat meadow-ground ; or fleecy flock, 
Ewes and their bleating lambs over the plain, 
Thoir booty. Scarce with life the shepherds fly, 650 
B\it call in aid ; which makes a bloody fray. 
With cruel tournament the squadrons join : 
Where cattle pastured late, now scatter d lies 
With carcases and arms th' insang-uined field 
Deserted. Others, to a city strong- 6S5 

Lay sieg'e, encamp'd ; by battery, scale, and mine. 
Assaulting- : others, from the wall, defend 
With dart and javelin, stones and sulph'rous fire: 
On each hand slaughter and gigantic deeds. 
In other part the scepter'd heralds call 6G0 

To council in the city gates. Anon 
Grey-headed men and grave, with warriors mix'd, 
Assemble, and harangues are heard ; but. soon 
In factious opposition, till at last 
Of middle age one rising, eminent 665 

645. Nor idly miisCring stood: there is supf.-osed to be an ai- 
liision here, and in one or two other similar lines, to the situation 
of tlie Er.g-lisli army at the time Milton was writin?, 

660. There are sevrjrai imitations of Homer in this description, 
liiad, xviii. 

661. The judsres are descri.bed in Scripture as silting in the gates 
of tlie cities. Gen. xxxiv. 20. Zecli. viii. 16, &c. 

65.3. Of middle age, as the years of life were then nambered. 
Enoch was 365 years old when translated, Gen. v. 23. 
N 2 



274 PARADISE LOST. 

In wise depoi-t, spake much of right and wrong". 

Of justice, of religion, truth, and peace, 

And judgment from above. Him old and young 

Exploded, and had seized with violent hands. 

Had not a cloud descending- snatch'd him thence, 670 

U'nseen amid the throng- ; so violence 

Proceeded, and oppression, and sword-law 

Through all the plain ; and refuge none was found 

Adam was all in tears, and to his Guide 

Lamenting-, turn'd full sad : O what are these ? 675 

Death's ministers, not men, who thus deal death 

Inhumanly to men, and multiijly 

Ten thousand fold the sin of him who slew 

His brother ! for of whom such massacre 

Make they but of their brethren, men of men ! 680 

But who was that just man, whom had not Heav'n 

Rescued, had in his righteousness been lost ? 

To whom thus Michael : These are the product 
Of those ill-mated marriages thou saw'st ; 684 

Where g-ood with bad were match'd,who of themselves 
Abhor to join, and by imprudence mix'd. 
Produce prodigious births of body' or mind. 
Such were these giants, men of high renown; 
For in those days might only shall be' admired, 
And valour and heroic virtue call'd, 690 

To overcome in battle and subdue 
Nations, and bring- home spoils with infinite 
Man-slaughter, shall be held the highest pitch 
Of human glory, and for glory done 
Of triumph, to be styled great conquerors, 695 

Patrons of mankind, Gods, and sons of Gods : 
Destroyers rightlier call'd, and plagues of men. 
Thus fame shall be achieved, renown on earth. 
And what most merits fame in silence hid. 
But he the seventh from thee, whom thou beheld'st 
The only righteous in a world perverse, 701 

And therefore hated, therefore so beset 
With foes for daring- single to be just, 

663. Cen. vi. 4. Tt is supposed by some interpreters that the 
^aiits were so railed from their tyranny and power rather thar 
their extraordinary bulk. The common idea, however, seems the 
more correct, as it is supported by an immense mass of tradi- 
tiouary evidence. 

700. Jude 14. 



BOOK XI. 2T5 

And utter odious truth, that God would come 
To judg-e them with his saints ; him the Most High 
Rapt in a balmy cloud with winged steeds, 705 

Did, as thou saw'st, receive to walk with God, 
High in salvation and the climes of bliss. 
Exempt from death ; to shew thee what reward 
A vaits the g'ood, the rest what punishment ; 710 

Which now direct thine eyes, and soon behold. 

He look'd and saw the face of things quite changed. 
The brazen throat of war had ceased to roar : 
All now was turn'd to jollity and game, 
To luxury and riot, feast and dance, 715 

Mai-rying- or prostituting, as befel, 
Rape or adultery, where passing fair 
Allured them : thence from cups to civil broils. 
At length a rev 'rend sire among them came, 
And of their doings great dislike declared, 72C 

And testified against their ways. He oft 
Frequented their assemblies, whereso niet. 
Triumphs or festivals, and to them preach'd 
Conversion and repentance, as to souls 
In prison under judgments imminent : 725 

But all in vain : which when he saw, he ceased 
Contending, and removed his tents far off. 
Then from the mountain, hewing timber tall, 
Began to build a vessel of huge bulk, 
Measured by cubit, length, and breadth, and highth, 
Smear'd round with pitch, and in the side a door 731 
Contrived; and of provisions laid in large 
For man and beast ; when lo, a wonder strange ! 
Of every beast, and bird, and insect small. 
Came sevens and pairs, and enter'd in as taught 735 
Their order. Last, the sire and his three sons 
With their four wives ; and God made fast the door. 
Meanwhile the south wind rose, and with black 
wings 

723. 2 Pet. ii. 5. Josephus is Milton's authority for what is said 

resptctin<? Noah's conduct when lie found his preaching- vain ; or 

it niisrht be taken, possibly, from our Saviour's directions to the 

disciples to flee from the cities which refused to hear them. 

735. Gen. vii. 2, &c. 

738. Ovid, Met. i. The comparison which has been instituted 
between the descriptions which the two poets have ^j-iven of the 
deluse is his^hly interesting-, and t!ie classical reader will '"da 
f,ut!icient pleasure in makingr it for himself to reward the little 
labour it requires. 



276 PAUALMSE LOST. 

Wide liov'ring, all the clouds together drove 

From under Heaven; the hills to their supply 710 

Vapour, and exhalation dusk and moist, 

Sent up amain. And now the thicken'd sky 

Like a dai*k ceiling stood ; down rush'd the rain 

Impetuous, and continued till the earth 

No more v/as seen. The floating- vessel swum 745 

Uplifted, and secure with beaked prow. 

Rode tilting' o'er the waves : all dwellings else 

Flood overwhelm'd, and them with all their pomp 

Deep under water roll'd ; sea cover'd sea, 

Sea without shore : and in their palaces, 750 

Where luxury late reign 'd, sea monsters whelp'd 

And stabled. Of mankind, so numerous late, 

All left, in one small bottom swum imbark'd. 

How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold 

The end of all thy offspring, end so sad, 753 

Depopulation! Thee another flood, 

Of tears and sorrow' a flood, thee also drown'd, 

And sunk thee as thy sons ; till gently rear'd 

By th' Angel, on thy feet thou stood 'st at last. 

Though comfortless, as when a father mourns 760 

His children, all in view destroy'd at once : 

And scarce to th' Angel utter'dst thus thy plaint : 

visions ill foreseen ! Better had I 
Lived ignorant of future, so had borne 
My part of evil only, each day's lot 765 

Enough to bear ! those now, that were dispensed 
The burden of many ages, on me light 
At once, by my foreknowledge gaining birth 
Abortive, to torment me ere their being, 
With tliought that they must be I Let no man seek 
Henceforth to be foretold what shall befal 771 

Ifim or his children : evil he may be sure, 
Which neither his foreknowing can prevent, 
And he the future evil shall no less 
In apprehension than in substance feel 773 

Grievous to bear. But that care now is past, 
Man is not whom to warn : those few escaped, 
Famine and anguish will at last consume, 
Wand'ring that watery desert. I had hope 
When violence was ceased, and war on earth, 780 
A-U would have then gone weV • peace Vv^ould have 
crown'd 



BOOK XI. '2T7 

With length of happy days the race of man ; 
But I was far deceived : for now I see 
Peace to corrupt no less than war to waste. 
How conies it thus 1 Unfold, celestial guide ; 7S5 
•Ana whether here the race of man will end? 

T' whom thus Michael : Those whom last thou 
In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they [saw'st 
First seen in acts of prowess eminent 
And great exploits, but of true virtue void ; 790 

Who, having spilt much blood, and done much waste. 
Subduing nations, and achieved thereby 
Fame in the world, high titles, and rich prey. 
Shall change their course to pleasure, ease, and sloth. 
Surfeit, and lust, till wantonness and pride 795 

Raise out of friendship hostile deeds in peace. 
The conquer'd also, and enslaved by war, 
Shall, with their freedom lost, all virtue lose 
And fear of God, from whom their piety feign'd 
In sharp contest of battle, found no aid 800 

Against invaders ; therefore cool'd in zeal. 
Thenceforth shall practise how to live secure. 
Worldly or dissolute, on what their lords 
Shall leave them to enjoy : for th' earth shall bear 
More than euough, that temperance may be try'd: 
So all shall turn degenerate, all depraved, 806 

Justice and temperance, truth and faith forgot; 
One man except, the only son of light 
In a dark age, against example good. 
Against allurement, custom, and a world 810 

Offended ; fearless of reproach and scorn, 
Or violence, he of their wicked ways 
Shall them admonish, and before them set 
The paths of righteousness, how much more safe, 
And full of peace, denouncing wrath to come 815 
On their impenitence ; and shall return 
Of them derided, but of God observed 
The one just man alive. By his command 
Shall build a wondrous ark, as thou beheld'st 
To save himself and household from amidst 820 

A world devote to universal wrack. 
No sooner he with them of man and beast 
Select for life shall in the ark be lodged, 
821. Denote, for denotctU 



278 PARADISE LOST. 

And sheltered round, but all the cataracts 

Of Heav'n, set open on the earth, shall pour 823 

Rain day and night ; all fountains of the deep 

Broke up, shall heave the ocean, to usurp 

Beyond all bounds, till inundation rise 

Above the highest hills : then shall this mount 

Of Paradise, by mig-ht of waves, be moved 830 

Out of his place, push'd by the horned flood, 

With all his verdure spoil'd, and trees adrift, 

Down the great river to the opening gulf, 

And there take root an island salt and bare, 

The haunt of seals, and ores, and sea-mews clang-, 

To teach thee that God attributes to place 836 

No sanctity, if none be thither brought 

By men who there frequent, or therein dwell. 

And now what further shall ensue, behold. 

He look'd, and saw the ark hull on the flood, 840 
Which now abated ; for the clouds were fled, 
Driven by a keen north-wind, that blov/ing dry, 
Wrinkled the face of deluge, as decay'd ; 
And the clear sun on his wide watery glass 
Gazed hot, and of the fresu wave largely drew, 845 
As after thii-st ; which made their flowing- shrink 
From standing lake to tripping ebb, that stole 
With soft foot towards the Deep, who now had stopt 
His sluices, as the Heav'n his windows shut. 84^^ 
The ark no more now floats, but seems on ground. 
Fast on the top of some high mountain fix'd. 
And now the tops of hills as rocks appear : 
With clamoTu- thence the rapid currents drive 
Towards the retreating- sea their furious tide. 
Forthwith from out the ark a raven flies, 855 

And after him, the surer messenger, 
A dove, srnt forth once and again to spy 
Green tree or ground whereon his foot may light. 
The som^d time returning, in his bill 

824. Gen. vii. 11. 
829. Paradise, it Is siipposed, was destroyed by the deluge. 
831- Horned, indiX is, curved as rivers sometimes are wiren op- 
posed \n their (nirreat.. — Euphrates, which flowed through Eden, 
le called in Scripture the great river ; it emptied itself into the 
Persian -Gulf. 835- Ores, a kind of sea monster. 

8.50. Hull, floating- like a hulk, without siiils or rudder. 
842. North-Mind, the Scripture does not mention any particular 
•.vi»uJ. S48. Gen. viii. 2, &c. 



BOOK XI 279 

An olive leaf he brings ; pacific sign. 860 

Anon dry ground appears , and from his ark 
The ancient sire descends with all his train : 
Then, with uplifted hands and eyes devout, 
Grateful to Heav'n, over his head beholds 
A dewy cloud, and in the cioud a bow 865 

Conspicuous, with three listed colours gay, 
Betokening- peace from God, and covenant new. 
Whereat the heart; of Adam, erst so sad, 
Greatly rejoiced, and thus his joy broice forth : 

O thou, who futuve things can'st represent 870 
As present, heav'nly Instructor, I revive 
At this last sig-ht ; assured that man shall live 
With all the creatures, and their seed preserve. 
Far less I now lament for one whole v/ovld 
Of wicked sons desti'oy'd, than I rejoice 875 

For one man found so pei-fect and so just, 
That God vouchsafes to laise another v^oiid 
From him, and all his anger to forget. 
But say, what mean those colour'd streaks in Heav'n 
Distended as the brow of God appeased, 88C 

Or serve they as a flov/'ry verge to bind 
The fluid skirts of that same watery cloud. 
Lest it again dissolve and shower the earth ? 

To whom th' Arch-Angel : Dext'rously thcu aim'st ; 
So willingly doth God remit his ire, 885 

Though late repenting him of man depraved. 
Grieved at his heart, when looking down he saw 
The whole earth liU'd with violence, and all flesh 
Corrupting each their way ; yet those removed. 
Such grace shall one just man find in his sight, 890 
That he relents, not to blot out mankind, 
And makes a covenant never to destroy 
The earth again by flood, nor let the sea 
Surpass his bounds, nor rain to drown the world 
With man therein or beast ; but when he brings 895 
Over the earth a cloud, will therein set 

860. It may be observed that the olive is made frequent mention 
of in Sciipture, and appears to liave had a sort of sacred cha- 
racter atnon^: most of the ancient r.ations. Mitrlit it not acquire 
this by its having been thus appointed by God as a sign of peace 
between him and liis creatures ! 

866. Three listed colours, the three principal ones are here 
alluded to. 



280 PARADISE LOST. 

His triple-colour'd bow, whereon to look, 

And call to mind his covenant. Day and night, 

Seed-time and harvest, heat and hoary frost, 

Shall hold their course, till fire purge all thing's new 

Both Heav'n and Earth, wherein the just shall dweli 



BOOK XII. 

THE ARGUMENT. 

The Angel Michael contiimes, from the flood, to relate what 
shajl succeed ; tlien, in the mention of Abraham, comes by de- 
grees to exphiin who that Seed of the Woman sliall be, \vhich 
was promised Adam aed Eve in the fall; his incarnation, dcati), 
resurrection, and ascension ; the stile of the chi;Th till his se- 
cond coming. Adam, greatly satisried and recomf jrted by these 
relations aiid promisesj descends the hill with INHchat-i : wakens 
Eve, who all this while had slept, bnt with gentle dreams com- 

Iiosed to quietness of mind and submission. Michael in either 
land leads them out of Paradise, the fiery sword waving behind 
them, and the Cherubim taking their stations to guard the place. 

As one who in his journey bates at noon. 

Though bent on speed, so here th' Arch- An gel paused 

Betwixt the woi'ld destroy'd and world restored, 

If Adam aught perhaps might interpose ; 

Then with transition sweet new speech resumes. 5 

Thus thou hast seen one world begin and end ; 
And man, as from a second stock, proceed. 
Much thou hast yet to see, but I perceive 
Thy mortal sight to fail ; objects divine 
Must needs impair and weary human sense : 10 

Hencefoi'th what is to come I will relate. 
Thou therefore give due audience, and attend. 
This second source of men, while yet but few. 
And while the dread of judgment past remains 
Fresh in their minds, fearing the Deity, 15 

I. This book was united to the former in the first edition, and 
on its being separated the first five lines were added to form its 
commencenient. 

II. Addison regrets that the poet did not continue the vision 
instead of reverting to the narrative form — Milton, however, ap- 
pears to me to have been riglit in the plan he has pursued. It 
would, in the first place, have been unnatural to keep Adam 
longer in a state of ecstasy or trance; and next and princk)ally, 
the action of the poem would have been entirely stopped too long, 
had the vision continued. By bringing the angel forward as speak- 
ing and conversing with Adani, the plot, though not leally for 
warded, has the app-^arance of going on 



BOOK XII. 281 

With some regard to what is just and right 

Shall lead their lives, and multiply apace. 

Labouring- the soil, and reaping plenteous crop, 

Corn, wine, and oil : and from the herd or flock, 

Oft sacrilicing bullock, lamb, or kid, 20 

With large wine-off 'rings pour'd, and sacred feast, 

Shall spend their days in joy unblamed, and dwell 

Long- time in peace, by families and tribes, 

Under paternal rule, till one shall rise, 

Of proud ambitious heart ; who not content 25 

With fair equality, fraternal state. 

Will arrogate dominion -undeserved 

Over his brethren, and quite dispossess 

Concord and law of nature from the earth, 

Hunting (and men not beasts shall be his game) 30 

With war and hostile snare such as refuse 

Subjection to his empire tyrannous : 

A mighty hunter thence he shall be styled 

Before the Lord, as in despite of Heav'n, 

Or from Heav'n claiming second sov 'reign ty ; 35 

And from rebellion shall derive his name, 

Though of rebellion others he accuse. 

He with a crew, whom like ambition joins 

With him or under him to tyrannize. 

Marching from Eden tow'rds the west, shall find 40 

The plain, wherein a black bituminous gurge 

Boils out from under ground, the mouth of Hell: 

Of brick, and of that stuff they cast to build 

A city' and tow'r, whose top may reach to Heav'n ; 

And get themselves a name, lest far dispersed 45 

In foreign lands, there memory be lost, 

Regardless whether good or evil fame. 

But God, who oft descends to visit men 

Unseen, and through their habitations walks 

To mark their doings, them beholding soon, 50 

Comes doAvn to see their city, ere the tow'r 

Obstruct Heav'n-tow'rs, and in derision sets 

ITpon their tongues a various spirit to rase 

22. The silver a^-e is here meant, as the time of man's inno- 
cence was the prolden. — The iron aae is next mentiotietl. ■ 

24. ]Nitnro<l is said to have been the first man who assumed the 
power and character of a monarch. Gen. x. 9. 

36. The name of Nimrod is usually derived from a Hebrevt 
word that signifies io rebel. ' 40. Gen. xi. 2, &c. 



282 PARADISK LOST. 

Quite out their native laogaage, and instead 

To sow a jangling noise of words unknown. 55 

Forthwith a hideous g-abble rises loud 

Among the builders ; each to other calls. 

Not understood, till hoarse, and all in rage, 

As mock'd they storm. Great laughter was in Heav'n ; 

And looking down, to see the hubbub strange, 60 

And hear the din ; thus was the building left 

Ridiculous, and the work Confusion named. 

Whereto thus Adam, fatherly displeased : 
O execrable son, so to aspire 

Above his brethren, to himself assuming 65 

Authority usurp'd; from God not g'iven. 
He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl. 
Dominion absolute ; that right we hold 
By his donation : but man over men 
He made not lord : such title to himself 70 

Reserving, human left from human free. 
But this usuT'per, his encroachment proud 
Stays not on man; to God his tow'r intends 
Siege and defiance. Wretched man ! what food 
Will he convey up thither to sustain 75 

Himself and his rash army, where thin air 
Above the clouds will pine his entrails gross, 
And famish him of breath, if not of bread 1 

To whom thus Michael : Justly thou abhorr'st 
That son, who on the quiet state of men 80 

Such trouble brought, affecting to subdue 
Rational liberty ; yet know withal. 
Since thy original lapse, true liberty 
Is lost, which always with right reason dwells 
Twinn'd, and from her hath no dividual being 85 
Reason in man obscured, or not obey'd. 
Immediately inordinate desires 
And upstart passions catch the government 
From reason, and to servitude reduce 
Man till then free. Therefore, since he permits 90 
Within himself unworthy powers to reign 
Over free reason, God in judgment just 

59. Dr. Bentley reaus is in this and in line 61. But the ansrel 

mig-ht regard the event as past, as in his relation he looked frora 

a station which could command the whole extended course of time, 

62o -babel signifies confusion in Hebrew. Gen. xi. 9. 



BOOK Xil. 283 

Subjects him from without to violent lords ; 

Who oft as undeservedly inthrall 

His outward freedom. Tyranny must be, 95 

Though to the tyrant thereby no excuse. 

Yet sometimes nations will decline so low 

From virtue, which is reason, that no wrong, 

But justice, and some fatal curse annex'd, 

Deprives them of their outward liberty, 100 

Their inward lost. Witness th' irrev'rent son 

Of him who built the ark, who for the shame 

Done to his father, heard this heavy curse. 

Servant of servants,' on his vicious race. 
Thus will this latter, as the former world, 105 

Still tend from bad to worse, till God at last. 
Weary 'd with their iniquities, withdraw 
His presence from among them, and avert 
His holy eyes ; resolving" from thenceforth 
To leave them to their own polluted ways; 110 

And one peculiar nation to select 
From all the rest, of whom to be invoked, 
A nation from one faithful man to spring : 
Him on this side Euphrates yet residing-. 
Bred up in idol -worship. O that men 115 

(Canst thou believe?) should be so stupid grown, 
While yet the patriarch lived, who scaped the flood. 
As to forsake the living God, and fall 
To worship their own work in wood and stone 
For Gods ! yet him God the Most High vouchsafes 
To call by vision from his father's house, 121 

His kindred, and false Gods, into a land 
Which he will shew him, and from him will raise 
A mighty nation, and upon him shower 
His benediction so, that in his seed 125 

All nations shall be blest. He straight obeys, 
Not knowing to what land, yet firm believes. 
1 see him, but thou canst not, with v/hat faith 

101. Cham ; the f\ther of Canaan is here meant. Gen. ix. 22. 25. 

110. The narrative is, from this point, confined to the history of 
the chosen race, the seed of Ab-aham. 115. Josh. xxiv. 2. 

117. Temh, Abraham's father ,Tas born 222 years after the flood, 
and Noah was liviiiH till the 3oOth year after it, so that idolatry 
had gained g-round some vears before his death. 

120. Gen. xii. 1— "-3. 126. Heb. xl. 8. 

128. This is not, it should be observed, a reverting to the former 
visian, as some commentators seem to suppose, but a mode o1 



284 PARADISE LOST. 

He leaves his Gods, his friends, and native soil, 

Ur of Chaldaea, passing now the ford ISf) 

To Haran : after him a cumb'rous train 

Of herds, and flocks, and numerous servitude •, 

Not wand'ring poor, but trusting- all his wealth 

With God, who call'd him, in a land unknown. 

Canaan he now attains : I see his tents 13& 

Pitch 'd about Sechem, and the neig'hb'ring- plain 

Of Moreh : there, by promise, he receives 

Gift to liis progeny of all that land. 

From Hamath northward to tiie Desert south 

''Things by their naines I call, tho' yet unnamed), 140 

From Hermon east to the great western sea ; 

Mount Hermon, yonder sea ; each place behold 

In prospect, as I point them : on the shore 

Mount Carmel : here the double-foauted stream 

Jordan, true limit eastward ; but liis sons 145 

Shall dwell to Senir, that long- ridge of hills. 

This ponder, that all nations of the earth 

Shall in his seed be blessed. By that seed 

Is meant thy great Deliv'rer, who shall bruise 

The Serpent's head : whereof to thee anon 150 

Plainlier shall be reveal'd. This patriarch blest, 

Whom faithful Abraham due time shall call, 

A son, and of his son a grandchild leaves, 

Like him in faith, in wisdom, and renown. 

The grandchild with twelve sons increased, departs 

From Canaan to a land, hereafter call'd 156 

Egypt, divided by the river Nile. 

See where it flows, disgorging at seven mouths 

Into the sea. To sojourn in that land 

He comes, invited by a younger son, 160 

\n time of dearth : a son whose worthy deeds 

Raise him to be the second in that realm 

Of Pharaoh. There he dies, and leaves his race 

Growing into a nation, and now grown 

Suspected to a sequent King, who seeks 165 

To stop their overgrowth, as inmate guests 

Too num'rous ; v/hence of guests he makes them slaves 

speaking' natural to the ang-el, to whom ail the future was revealed. 
The reader will find the whole of the narrative here given iij 
different parts of the Pentateuch. 

1.55. IVilh twelve sons increased • a Latinism. 



BOOK XII. 285 

Inhospitably', and kills their infant males : 

Till hy two brethren (those two brethren call 

Moses and Aaron) sent from God to claim 170 

His people from inthralment, they return 

VV ith glory' and spoil back to their promised land. 

But first the lawless tyrant, who denies 

To know tlieir God, or message to regard. 

Must be compell'd by signs and judgments dire. 175 

To blood unshed the rivers must be turn'd ; 

Frogs, lice, and flies must all his palace fill 

With loath'd intrusion, and fill all the land ; 

His cattle must of rot and murrain die ; 

Botches and blains must all his flesh emboss, 180 

And all his people ; thunder mix'd with hail. 

Hail mix'd with fire, must rend th' Egyptian sky. 

And wheel on th' earth, devouring where it rolls ; 

What it devours not, herb, or fruit, or grain, 

A darksome cloud of locusts swarming down 185 

Must eat, and on the ground leave nothing green: 

Darkness must overshadow all his bounds. 

Palpable darkness, and blot out three days; 

Last, with one midnight stroke, all the first-born 

Of Egypt must lie dead. Thus with ten wounds 190 

The river-dragon tamed, at length submits 

To let his sojourners depart, and oft 

Humbles his stubborn heart, but still as ice 

More harden'd after thaw, till in his rage 

Pursuing whom he late dismiss'd, the sea 195 

Swa'lows him with his host; but them lets pass 

As on dry land, between two crystal walls. 

Awed by the rod of Moses so to stand 

Divided, till his rescued gain'd their shore. 

Such wondrous power God to his saint will lend. 

Though present in his Angel, who shall go 201 

Before them in a cloud and pillar of fire 

(By day a cloud, by night a pillar of fire). 

To guide them in their journey, and remove 

Behind them, Vv'hile th' obdurate king pursues. 205 

All night he will pursue ; bat his approach 

Darkness defends between till morning watch : 

.88. The Vulgate translniioii of Exodus x. 21. has tarn denstsui 
valjHiri queant. Our English lias, darhvess that may be ft}'^ 
207. Defends, forbids. 



286 PARADISE LOST. 

Then through the fiery pillar and the cloud 

God, looking forth, will trouble all ^lis host, 

And craze their chariot-wheels : when by command 

Moses once more his potent rod extends 211 

Over the sea; the sea his rod obeys ; 

On their embattled ranks the waves return, 

And overwhelm their war . the race elect 

Safe towards Canaan from the shore advance 215 

Through the wild desert, not the readiest way^ 

Lest, ent'ring* on the Canaanite, alarm'd, 

War terrify them inexpert, and fear 

Return them back to Egypt, choosing rather 

Inglorious life v/ith servitude ; for life 220 

To noble and ignoble is more sweet 

Untrain'd in arms, where rashness leads not on. 

This also shall they gain by their delay 

In the wide wilderness ; there they shall found 

Their government, and their great senate choose 225 

Through the twelve tribes, to rule b^- laws ordain'd. 

God from the mount of Sinai, whose grey top 

Shall tremble, he descending, will himself 

In thunder, lightning, and loud trumpets sound. 

Ordain them laws ; part such as appertain 230 

To civil justice, part religious rites 

Of sacriiice, informing them, by types 

And shadows, of that destined Seed to brixise 

The Serpent, by what means he shall achieve 

Mankind's deliverance. But the voice of God 235 

To mortal ear is dreadful ! They beseech 

That Moses might report to them his will, 

And terror cease. He grants what they besought. 

Instructed that to God is no access 

Without Mediator, whose high office now 240 

Moses in figure bears, to introduce 

One greater, of whose day he shall foretell ; 

210. Craze, bruise or shatter, from the French ecraser. In 
Exodus xiv. 25. our translation has taken off, but Milton is nearer 
the original. 

230. Milton has not made any particular mention of the moral 
law in this passaire. The reason \ in\;iq-ine is, that the sole object 
he had in view w;is to shew tlie pioirress of events towards tho 
appearance of Christ and the o^Jahlishiiient of his kin-rdom. lie 
had, therefore, onlv so f.ir to introduce tlie Jewish dispensation 
as it typified the Mrssiah's kini,'-doni or illu^tMiled his character 
and actions. The moral law was unch;ing-ed and unchangeable, 
and belonged to no one tiu-e or system. The objections, there- 
fore, of Warburton and others are without foundatioa 



BOOK XII. 28? 

And all the prophets in their ag-e the times 

Of great Messiah shall sing-. The laws and rites 

Establish'd, such delight hath God in men 245 

Obedient to his will, that he vouchsafes 

Among- tliem to set up his tabernacle, 

The Holy One with mortal men to dwell. 

By his prescript a sanctuary is framed 

Of cedar, overlaid with gold, therein 250 

An ark, and in the ark his testimony, 

The records of his covenant; over these 

A mercy-seat of g-old between the wings 

Of two bright Cherubim ; before him burn 

Seven lamps, as in a zodiac, representing 255 

The heav'nly fires ; over the tent a oloud 

Shall rest by day, a fiery gleam by night. 

Save when they journey ; and at length they come. 

Conducted by his Angel, to the land 

Promised to Abraham and his seed. The rest 260 

Were long to tell, how many battles fought. 

How many kings destroy'd, and kingdoms won. 

Or how the sun shall in mid Hea^'n stand still 

A day entire, and night's due course adjourn, 

Man's voice commanding-, Sun in Gibeon stand, 2S5 

And thou moon in the vale of Aijalon, 

Till Israel overcome ; so call the third 

From Abraham, son of Isaac, and from him 

His whole descent, who thus shall Canaan win. 

Here Adam interposed : O sent from Heav'n, 270 
P^nlight'ner of my darkness, gracious things 
Thou hast reveal'd, those chieily which concern 
Just Abraham and his seed : now first I find 
Mine eyes true opening, and my heart niuch eased, 
Erewhile perplex'd with thoughts what would become 
Of me and all mankind; but now I see 270 

His day, in whom all nations shall be blest, 
Favour unmerited by me, who sought 
Forbidden knowledge by forbidden means. 
This yet I apprehend not, why to those 28u 

Among whom God will deign to dwell on earth. 
So many and so various laws are given 1 
So many laws argue so many sins 

2o6. The heavenly fires, the seven lamps, sij^nifying- the 

seven planets. 277. John viii. 56. 

ii83. Gal. iii. 19. Rom. vii. ", 8, iij. 20. Heb. ix. 13. x. 4, 5 &c. 



288 PARADISE LOST. 

Among' them. How can God with such reside ? 

To whom thus Michael : Doubt not but that sin 
Will reign among them, as of thee begot; 2S6 

And therefore was law given them to evince 
Their natural pravity, by stirring up 
Sin against law to fight : that when they see 
Law can discover sin, but not remove, 290 

Save by those shadowy expiations weak. 
The blood of bulls and goats, they may conclude 
Some blood moie precious must be paid for man, 
Just for unjust, that in such righteousness 
To them by faith imputed, they may find 295 

Justification towards God, and peace 
Of conscience, which the law by ceremonies 
Cannot appease, nor man the moral part 
Perform, and, not performing, cannot live. 
So law appears imperfect, and but given 300 

With purpose to resign them in full time 
Up to a better covenant, disciplined 
From shadowy types to truth, from flesh to spirit, 
From imposition of strict laws to free 
Acceptance of large grace, from servile fear 305 

To filial, works of law to works of faith. 
And therefore shall not Moses, though of God 
Highly beloved, being but the minister 
Of law, his people into Canaan lead; 
But Joshua, whom the Gentiles Jesus call, 310 

His name and office bearing, who shall quell 
The adversary Serpent, and bring back. 
Thro' the world's wilderness long wander'd, man 
Safe, to eternal Paradise of rest. 314 

Mean while they in their earthly Canaan placed. 
Long time shall dwell and prosper but when sins 
National interrupt their public peace. 
Provoking God to raise them enemies ; 
From whom as oft he saves them penitent 
By judges first, then under kings ; of whom 320 

The second, both for piety renown'd 
And puissant deeds, a promise shall receive 

310. Jesus and Joshua are the same name, the former being- 
the Greek and the latter the Hebrew form. Jesus is used for 
Joshua, Acts vii. 45. Heb. iv. 8. As the wlioie of this part of the 
poem is talien from Scripture, the reader will do well to consult 
the iTiarg-inal references of his Bible, if he be curious to see how 
the author has converted his scriptural knowledge to his use in 
this narrative, mixing- with great skill history and prophecy 



BOOK XII. 289 

Irrevocable, that his regal throne 

For ever shall endure. The like shall sing* 

All prophecy, that of the royal stock 325 

Of Da-v id (so I name this King-) shall rise 

A Son, the Woman's Seed to thee foretold, 

Foi-etold to Abraham, as in whom shall trust 

All nations, and to kings foretold, of king-s 

The last ; for of his reign shall be no end. 330 

But first a long- succession must ensue. 

And his next son, for wealth and wisdom famed, 

The clouded ark of God, till then in tents 

Wand'ring, shall in a glorious temple' inshrine. 

Such follow him as shall be reg-ister'd 335 

Part g'ood, part bad, of bad the long'er scroll, 

Whose fonl idolatries, and other faults 

Heap'd to the popular sum, will so incense 

God, as to leave them, and expose their land. 

Their city', his temple, and his holy ark, 340 

With all his sacred things, a scorn and prey 

To that proud city, whose high walls thou saw'st 

Left in confusion, Babylon thence call'd ; 

There in captivity he lets them dwell 

The space of seventy years, then bring-* them back, 

Rememl-'ring- mercy, and his covenant sworn 346 

To David, stablish'd as the days of Heav'n. 

Retui-n'd from Babylon, by leave of kings 

Their lords, whom God disposed, the house of God 

They first re-edify, and for a while 3^50 

In mean estate live moderate, till grown 

In wealth and multitude, factious they grow. 

But, first, among* the priests dissension springs 1 

Men who attend the altar, and should most 

Endeavour peace. Their strife pollution brinj^-? 355 

Upon the temple' itself. At last they seize 

The sceptre, and regard not David's sons. 

Then lose it to a stranger, that the true 

Anointed King, Messiah, might be born 

Barr'd of his right ; yet at his birth a star, 360 

Unseen before in Heav'n, proclaims him come, 

And guides the eastern sages, who inquire 

His place, to olfer incense, myrrh, and g-old. 

His place of birth a solemn Angel tells 

342. Thou, saw'st, a strong' poeticiil e^d'ession, and not 
to be taken literally. 

o 



290 PARADISE LOST. 

To simple slieplierds, keeping- watch by night : 36A 

They gladly thither haste, and, by a choir 

Of squadron'd Angels, hear his carol sung : 

A virgin is his mother, but his Sire 

The Pow'r of the Most High. He shall ascend 

The throne hereditary, and bound his reign 370 

With earth's wide bounds, his glory with the Heav'ns. 

He ceased, discerning Adam with such joy 
Surcharged, as had like grief been dew'd in tears, 
Without the vent of words, which these he breathed : 

O prophet of glad tidings! finisher 375 

Of utmost hope! now clear I understand 
What oft my steadiest thoughts have search'd in vain, 
Why our great expectation should be call'd 
The seed of Woman. Virgin Mother, kail ! 
High in the love of Heav'n, yet from my loins 380 
Thou Shalt proceed, and from thy womb the Son 
Of God Most High ; so God with Man unites. 
Needs must the Serpent now his capital bruise 
Expect with mortal pain. Say where and when 384 
Their fight ; what stroke shall bruise the Victor's heel . 

To whom thus Michael : Dream not of their fight 
As of a duel, or the local wounds 
Of head or heel : not therefore joins the Son 
Manhood to Godhead, with more strength to foil 
Thy enemy ; nor so is overcome 390 

Satan, whose fall from Heav'n, a deadlier bruise, 
Disabled not to give thee thy death's wound : 
Which he, who comes thy Saviour, shall recure, 
Not by destroying Satan, but his works 
In thee and in thy seed : nor can this be, 39.5 

But by fulfilling that which thou didst want. 
Obedience to the law of God imposed 
On penalty of death, and suff' ring death. 
The penalty to thy transgression due, 
And due to theirs, which out of thine will grow : 
So only can high justice rest appaid. 401 

The law of God exact he shall fulfil. 
Both by obedience and by love, though love 
Alone fulfil the law. Thy punishment 
He shall indure, by coming in the flesh IDS 

To a reproachful life and cursed death. 
Proclaiming life to all who shall believe 
In his redemption, and that his obedienc© 



BOOK XT I. 291 

Imputed becomes theirs by faith, his merits 
To save them, not their own, though legal works. 
For this he shall live hated, be blasphemed, 411 

Seized on by force, judged, and to death condemn'd, 
A shameful and accursed, nail'd to the cross 
By his own nation, slain for bringing- life " 
But to the cross he nails thy enemies; 415 

Tlie law that is against thee, and the sins 
Of all mankind, with him there crucify'd, 
Never to hurt them more who rightly trust 
In this his satisfaction. So he dies, 
But soon i-evives ; death over him no power 420 

Shall long- usurp: ere the third dawning light 
Return, the stars of morn shall see him rise 
Out of his grave, fresh as the dawning light. 
Thy ransom paid, which man from death redeems. 
His death for man, as many as offer'd life 425 

Neglect not, and the benefit embrace 
By faith not void of works. This Godlike act 
Annuls thy doom, the death thou shouldst have died, 
In sin for ever lost from life. This act 
Shall bruise the head of Satan, crush his strength. 
Defeating sin and death, his two main arms, 431 
And fix'd far ?ieeper in his head their stings 
Than temp'ral death shall bruise tlie Victor's heel, 
Or theirs whom he redeems, a death-like sleep, 
A gentle wafting to immortal life. 435 

Nor after resurrection shall he stay 
Longer on earth than certain times t' appear 
To his disciples, men who in his life 
Still follow'd him: to them shall leave in charge 
To teach all nations what of him they learn'd 440 
And his salvation ; them who shall believe 
Baptizing in the profluent stream, the sign 
Of washing them from guilt of sin to life 
Pure, and in mind prepared, if so befall, 
For death, like that which the Redeemer died. 445 
All nations they shall teach ; for, from that day. 
Not only to the sons of Abraham's loins 
Salvation shall be preach'd, but to the sons 
Of Abraham's faith, wherever through the world; 
In in his seed all nations shall be blest. 45Q 

'.' , Thy enemies, the laio, Sic. as explained in the next 
line. — Coloss. li. 14. 



292 PARADISK LOST. 

Then to tlie Heav'n of Heav "ds he shall ascend 

With victory, triumphing- through the air 

Over hij foes and thine ; there shall surprise 

The Serpent, prince of air, and drag- in chains 

Thro' all his realm, and there confounded leave ; 

Then enter into glory, and resume 456 

His seat at God's right hand, exalted high 

Above all names in Heav'n ; and thence shall come. 

When this world's dissolution shall be ripe, 

With glory' and j)ow'r to judge both quick and dead ; 

To judge th' unfaithful dead, but to reAvard 461 

His faithful, and receive them into bliss, 

W^hether in Heav'n or Earth ; for then the Earth 

Shall all be Paradise : far happier place 

Than this of Eden, and far happier days. 465 

So spakfe th' Arch- Angel Michael, then paused, 
As at the world's great period; and our sire, 
Replete with joy and Vv'onder, thus reply'd : 

O Goodness infinite. Goodness immense I 
That all this good of evil shall produce, 470 

And Evil turn to good ! more wonderful 
Than that v.hich by creation first brought forth 
Light out of darkness ! full of doubt 1 stand, 
W^hether I hould repent me now of sin. 
By me done u;ui occasion'd, or rejoice 475 

Much more, that much more good thereof shall spring, 
To God more filory, more good-will to men 
From God, and over wrath grace shall abound. 
But say : if our Deliv'rer xxp to Heav'n 
Must reascend, what will betide the few 480 

His faithful, left among th' unfaithful herd, 
The enemies of truth ? Who then shall guide 
His people? who defend? Will they not deal 
Worse with his followers than with him they dealt ? 

Be *!ure they will, said the Angel; but from Heav'n 
He to his own a Comforter will send, 48fif 

The promise of xhe Father, who shall dwell 
His Spirit within them, and the law of faith. 
Working through love, upon their hearts shall write, 
To g-ade them in all truth, and also arm 4L'0 

469. It lias been observed by Addison that Milton, by this pro- 
ptietir declaration of IVlicliael, iias made liis |)oem coiiforinab'p, 
to the opinion of tlie mot-t celebra.ted writers, that an epic shoul4 
end prosperously. 

487. Liike xxiv. 49. 490. John xvi. 13. and Eph, vi. 11. 



BOOK XJL 293 

With spiritual armour, able to resist 
Satan's assaults, and queiich his fiery dai'ts ; 
What man can do against them, not afraid, 
Though to the death, against such cruelties 
With inward consolations recompensed, 495 

And oft supported so as shall amaze 
Their proudest persecutors : for the Spirit 
Pour'd first on his Apostles, whom be sends 
T' evangelize the nations, then on all 
1 aptized, shall them with wondrous gifts endue 500 
To speak all tongues, and do all miracles, 
As did their Lord before them. Thus they win 
Great numbers of each nation to receive 
With juy the tidings brought from Heav'n. At length 
Their ministry perform M, and race well run, 505 
Their doctrine and their story written left. 
They die ; but in their room, as they forewarn. 
Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous wolves, 
Who all the sacred mysteries of Heav'n 
To their own vile advantages shall turn 510 

Of lucre and ambition, and the truth 
With superstitions and traditions taint. 
Left only in those written records pure, 
Though not but by the Spirit understood 
Then shall they seek to' avail themselves of names 
Places and titles, and with these to join 516 

Secular pow'r though feigning still to act 
By spiritual, to themselves appropriating 
The Spirit of God, promised alike, and given. 
To all believers; and from that pretence, 520 

Spiritual laws by carnal power shall force 
On ev'ry conscience ; lavvs which none shall find 
Left them inroD'd, or what the Spirit within 
Shall on the heart engrave. What will they then 
I? at force the Spirit of grace itself, and bind 525 

His consort Liberty? What but unbuild 
His living- temples, built by faith to stand, 
Their own faith, not another's? for on earth 
Who against faith and conscience can be heard 
Infallible ? Yet many will presume : 53(; 

Whence heavy persecution shall arise 
On all who in the worship persevere 
Of spirit and truth ; the rest, far greater part, 
507. Acts XX. 29. 514. 1 Cor. ii. 14. 



204 PARADISE JO ST. 

Will deem in outward rites and specious forms 
Religion satisfy'd. Truth sliall retire 535 

Eestuck v/ith sland'rous darts, and works of faith 
llarely be found. So shall the world go on, 
To good malignant, to bad men benign. 
Under her own weight, groaning till the day 
Appear of respiration to the just 540 

And vengeance to the wicked at return 
Of him so lately promised to thy aid, 
The Woman's Seed, obscurely then foretold; 
Now amplier known thy Saviour and thy Lord: 
Last in the clouds from Heav'n to be reveal'd 545 
In glory of the Father, to dissolve 
Satan with his perverted world, then raise 
From the conliagrant mass^ purged and refined, 
New Heav*ns, new Earth, ages of endless date 
Founded iu righteousness, and peace, and love, 550 
To bring forth fruits, joy and eternal bliss. 
He ended ; and thus Adam last reply'd : 
How soon hath thy prediction. Seer blest. 
Measured this transient world, the race of time, 
Till time stand lix'd ! Beyond is all abyss, 565 

Eternity, whose end no eye can reach. 
Greatly instructed, I shall hence depart. 
Greatly in peace of thought, and have my fill 
Of knov/ledge, what this vessel can contain; 
Beyond which was my folly to aspire. 560 

Henceforth I learn that to obey is best, 
And love with fear the only God, to walk 
As in his presence, ever to observe 
His providence, and on him sole depend, 
Merciful over all his v*'orks, with good 565 

Still overcoming evil, and by small 
Accomplishing great things, by things deem'd weak 
Subverting worldly strong, and worldly wise 
By simply meek ; that suffering for truth's sake 
Is fortitude to highest victory, 570 

And to the faithful, death the gate of life : 
Taught this by his example, whom I no\^ 
Acknowledge my Redeemer ever blest. 
To whom thus also th' Angel last reply'd : 

540. Of respiration ; in Scripture, the times of 

refreshing: Acts iii. 19. 

649. 2 Pet. iii. 13. See former noie on the same expression. 



BOOK XII. 295 

his having* learn'd, thou hast attain'd the sum 675 
/f wisdom; hope no higher, though all the stars 
^hou knew'st by name, and all th* ethereal pow'rs, 
411 secrets of the deep, all Nature's works, 
Or works of God in Heav'n, air, earth, or sea, 
A-nd all the riches of this world enjoy'dst, 580 

4nd all the rule, one empire ; only add 
Deeds to thy knowledge answerable ; add faith, 
Add virtue, patience, temperance, add love, 
By name to come call'd (Jharity, the soul 
Of all the rest, then wilt thou not be loath 585 

To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess 
A Paradise within thee, happier far. 
Let us descend now therefore from this top 
Of speculation ; for the hour precise 
Exacts our parting hence : and see the guards, 590 
By me encamp'd on yonder hill, expect 
Their motion, at whose front a flaming sword. 
In signal to remove, waves fiercely round. 
We may no longer stay. Go, waken Eve ; 
Her also I v ith gentle dreams have calm'd, 595 

Portending good, and all her spirits composed 
To meek submission. Thou at season fit 
Let her with thee partake what thou hast heard, 
Chiefly what may concern her faith to know, 
The great deliv 'ranee by her seed to come 600 

(For by the Woman's seed) on all mankind : 
That ye may live, which will be many days. 
Both in one faith unanimous though sad 
With cause for evils past, yet much more cheer'd 
With meditation on the happy end. 605 

He ended, and they both descend the hill; 
Descended, Adam to the bower where Eve 
Lay sleeping ran before, but found her waked ; 
And thus with words not sad she him received : 

Whence thou return'st, and whither went'st, I know: 
For God is also' in sleep, and dreams advise, 611 
Which he hath sent propitious, some great good 

581. 2 Pet. i. 5. 

588. Top of speculation ; an eminence of contemplation, from 
which the eye of the mind saw the mysteries of Providence all 
cleared up. 

608. An inconsistency is pointed out between this line and the 
argument to the book, in which it will be found that Adam i» 
aaid to waken Eve, while he is here represented as -finding^ hef 



296 PARADISE LOST. 

Presaging", since with sorrow' and heart's distreafl 

Weary'd I fell asleep : but now lead on ; 

in me is no delay. With thee to go, 61£ 

Is to stay here ; without thee here to stay. 

Is to go hence unwilling ; thou to me 

Art all things under Heav'n, all places thou, 

Who for my wilful crime art banish'd hence. 

This further consolation yet secure 020 

I carfy hence ; though all by me is lost, 

(Such favour I unworthy am vouchsafed) 

By me the promised Seed shall all restore. 

So spake our mother Eve ; and Adam heard 
Well pleased, but answer'd not ; for now too nigh 
Th' Arch-Angel stood, and from the other hill 620 
To their fix'd station, all in bright array 
The Cherubim descended ; on the ground 
Gliding meteorous, as evening mist 
Risen from a river o'er the marish glides, 630 

And gathers ground fast at the labourer's heel 
Homeward returning. High in front advanced. 
The brandish 'd sword of God before them blazed 
Fierce as a comet ; which with torrid heat, 
And vapour as the Libyan air adust, 635 

Began to parch that temp'rate clime : whereat 
In either hand the hast'ning Angel caught 
Our ling'ring parents, and to th' eastern gate 
Led them direct, and down the cliff as fast 
To the subjected plain ; then disappeared. 640 

They looking back, all the eastern side beheld 
Of Paradise (so late their happy seat) 
Waved over by that flaming brand, tlie gate 
With dreadful faces throng'd and fiery arms : 
Some natural tears they dropt, but wiped thera soon: 
The world was all before them, where to choose 616 
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide. 
They hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow 
Through Eden took their solitary way. 

630- May-ish; 'rom the French MaraU, a marsh. 
648. Tlie conclusion of this woiulerful poem is not inferior ta 
beauty to its prof^ress. Ceasing from the calm and unadorned 
narrative whicli occupies the former part of the last hook, tL" 
author rises again into his accustomed sublimity, and then wit'if 
the most admirable skill closes the poem with an appeal, dee|i 
and powerful, to all the feelings of awe ana tenderness which iS* 
ubject can awaken. Never, I think, nas worse taste been shew" 
than by the critics who would liave had the last two lines omitted- 

END OF PARADISE LOST. 



PARADISE REGAINED. 



BOOK I. 



THE ARGUMENT. 



The subject proposed. Invocation of tlie Holy Spirit. The poem 
opens with John baptizin«: at the river Jordan. Jesns coming 
there is baptized ; and is attested by the descent of the Holy Ghost, 
and by a voice from heaven, to be the Son of God. Satan, who is 
present, upon this immediately flies up into the regions of the 
air : where, summoning his infernal council, hf acquaints them 
with his apprehensions that Jesus is that seed of the woman des- 
tined to destroy ail their power, and points out to them the im- 
mediate necessity of bring-ing- the matter to proof, and of attempt- 
ing, by snares and fraud, to counteract and d(>feat the person 
from whom they have so much to d'^f^ad. Tliis office he otTers \ 

himself to undertake; and, his offer being accepted, sets out on \ 

his enterprise. In the mean time God, in the assembly of holy 
angels, declares that he has given up hj gjSen to be tempted by 
Satan ; but foretells that the tempter khallbe completely defeated 
by him : upon which the angels sing a hymn of triumph. Jesus 
is led up by the Spirit into the wilderness, while he is meditating 
on the conmiencement of his great office of Sivionr of mankind. 
Pursuing his meditations he narrates, in a soliloquy, what divine 
and philanthropic impulses he had felt from his early youth, and 
how his mother iVIaiy, on perceiving these dispositions in him, 
had acquainted him with the circumstances of his birth, and in- 
formed him that he was no less a person than the Son of God ; 
to which he adds what his own inquiries and reflections had sup- 
plied in confirmation of this great truth, and particularly dwells 
on the recent attestaL^n of 'it at the river Jordan. Our Lord 

C asses forty days, fasting, in the wilderness; where the wikl 
easts become mild and "harmless in his presence. Satan now 
appears under the form of an old peasant ; and enters into dis 
course with our Lord, wondering what could have brought hira 
alone into so dangerous a place, and at the same time professing 
to recognise him for the perso-n lately acknpwledged by John, at 
the river Jordan, to be the Son of God. {Jesus' briefly replies. 
Satan rejoins with a description of the difficulty of supporting life 
in the wilderness; and entreats Jesus, if he be really the Son of 
God, to manifest his divine power, by changing some of the 
gtones into bread. Jesus reproves him, and at the same time tells 
him that he knows who he is. Satan instantly avows himself, and 
offers an artful apology for himself and his conduct. Our blessed 
Lord severely reprimands him, and refutes every part of his justl 
ncation, Satan^ with much semblance of humility, sti) I endeavour* 
03 



298 PARADISE REGAINED. 

to justify himself ; and professin» his admiration of Jesus, and 
his regard for virtue, requests to be penniited at a future time 
to hear wn~f: of his conversation ; but is answered, that this 
m\l^^ be ao ne shall find permission from above. Satan then dis- 
appears, and the book closes with a short description of ni^^ht 
coming' on. 



T WHO ere while the happy Garden sung". 

By one Man's disobedience lost, now sing 
Recover d Paradise to all mankind. 
By one Man's firm obedience lully tried 
Through all temptation, and the Tempter foil'd 5 
in all his wiles, defeated and repulsed, 
And Eden raised in the waste wilderness. 

1. Milton's Paradise Retrained has afforded a fruitful subject 
for critical dispute and consideration, but it is ulliver^ally ai^reed 
that it by no means occupies the next deg'ree in excellence to 
Paradise' J.ost. Imp :i feet in the design, and evincin<>- few of 
those mi^-luy efibi-ts of invention which distingiiisli the foj-mer 
work of its'sireat autlior, it has never possessed tlie populurity 
wiiich any composition ot Milton miaht seem to clialleniie. I5ut 
it should "be impressed upon the reader's mind, that if tlie lioeni 
be imperfect in its plan, considered as a reiiular epic, tliis is no 
objection to it when examined according' to the plan which tiie 
author himself laid down. Milton, 1 tiiink it is beyond doudt, 
never intended to imitate his Paradise Lost in JLliis [)oem, nor to 
take any of the classical fnodels to work by. /lis object afipears 
to have been to shew the coming- of the Messiah, or rather his 
awful and mysterious entry into the kiuiidom which was to suj> 
plant for ever that of Satan, and form, as it were, the vestibule 
of an eternal Paradisej^Commentators have taken it for iinmted 
that he meant to L;i\e the whoie history of man's restoration; 
he did not do this, but intended only to shew Christ co e in the 
flesh, and b that the com) letion of 'those grand promises of the 
Father which predicted the restoration of mankind. Sufiposinor 
this to have been his |)nrpose, the temptation in the wilderness 
was the best point in the New i'estameiU histories he could de- 
termine on. It represented the Messiah in the full development 
of al' his human characteristics as born of the woman, and it 
represented him as warring visibly with Satan before the g-ale 
of Paradise. The pronnsed Dtiliverer thus come in the flesh, 
thus siining- fron! the chosen race, contending- with tie prince of 
this world, and p oving- his divinity by his triumph— the poet 
misiht well consider the title of Paradise Reg-ained was not too 
high a name for a work which shews Christ as truly man, and, 
bv his conquest o^er Satan at the first outset, as truly the Son of 
GoiL<^'This, I think, may be said in answer to many criticisms on 
thiiripoem, but if it be less defective as a whole than is commonly 
believed, it is more impertWt in its g-eneral execution than many 
are disposed to consider it. There is little or no passion, no 
stirring description, an 1 scarcely any dialogues, distinunished for 
more than ordinary power. The character of Christ is very 
weakly developed, its mysterious nature is reduced to a common- 
place humanity, and the scenes in which he is attacked by Satan, 
present nothing: but prettineases of invention or paraphrases of 
Scripture. 



BOOK I. 299 

Thou Spirit, who led'st this glorious eremite 
Into the desert, his victorious field, 
Against the spiritual foe, and brought'st him thence 
By proof th' undoubted Son of (iod, inspire, 11 

As thou art wont, my prompted song-, else mute, 
And bear thro' highth or depth of Nature's bounds, 
With prosp'rous wing- full summ'd, to tell of deeds 
Above jieroic, though in secret done, 15 

And unrecorded left through many an age. 
Worthy t' have not remain'd so long- unsung. 
Now had the greajt Pi'oclaimer with a voice 
More awful than the sound of trumpet, cried 
Repentance, and Heav'n's kingdom nigh at hand 20 
To all baptized : to his g-reat baptism flock'd 
With awe the reg-ions round, and with them came 
From Nazareth the son of Joseph deem'd 
To the flood Jordan, came as then obscure, 
Unmark'd, unknown ; but him the Baptist soon 25 
Descried, divinely warn'd, and witness bore 
As to his worthier, and would have resign'd 
To him this heav'nly office, nor was long- 
His witness uncoiifirm'd ; on him baptized 
Heav'n open'd, and in likeness of a dove 30 

The Spirit descended, while the Father's voice 
From Heav'n pronounced him his beloved Son. 
That heard the Adversary, who roving still 
About the world, at that assembly famed 
Would not be last, and with the voice divine 35 

Nigh thunder-struck, th' exalted Man, to whom 
Such high attest was given, awhile suYvey'd 
With wonder, then with envy fraught and rage 
Flies to his place, nor rests but in mid air; 
To council summons all his mighty peers, 40 

Within thick clouds and dark ten-fold involved 
A gloomy consistory ; and them amidst 
With looks aghast and sad he thus bespake : 

O ancient Pow'rs of air, and this wide world 
For much more willingly I mention air, 45 

This our old conquest, than remember Hell, 
Our hated habitation ; well ye know 



%S. Divinely ; like the Latin divinitus^ from heaven. 
44. Eph. h 2. Vi. 12. 



30a PARADISE REGAINED. 

How many ages, as the years of men, 

This universe we hare possess'd, and ruled, 

In manner at our will th' affairs of Earth, 50 

Since Adam and his facile consort Eve 

Lost Paradise deceived by me, though since 

With dread attending when that fatal wound 

Shall be inflicted by the seed of Eve 

Upon ray head : long the decrees of Heav'n 55 

Delay, for longest time to him is short ; 

And now too soon for us the circling hoiirs 

This dreaded time hath compass'd, wherein we 

Must bide the stroke of that long threatened wound. 

At least if so we can, and by the head 60 

Broken be not intended all our power 

To be infringed, our freedom and our being. 

In this fair empire won of Earth and Air ; 

For this ill news I bring, the woman's seed 

Destined to this, is late of woman born : 65 

Kis birth to our just fear gave no small cause. 

But his growth now to youth's full flow'r displaying- 

All virtue, grace, and wisdom to achieve 

Things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear. 

Before him a great prophet, to proclaim 70 

His coming, is sent Harbinger, who all 

Invites, and in the consecrated stream. 

Pretends to wash off sin, and lit them so 

Purified to receive him. pure, or rather 

To do him honour as their king ; all come, 75 

And he himself among them was baptized, 

Not thence to be more pure, but to receive 

The testimony' of Heav'n, that who he is 

Thenceforth the nations may not doubt ; I saw 

The prophet do him reverence, on him rising 80 

Out of the water, Heav'n above the clouds 

Unfold her crystal doors, thence on his head 

A perfect dove descend, v/hate'er it meant. 

And out of Heav'n the Sovereign voice I heard, 

This is my Son beloved, in him am pleased. 85 

His mother then is mortal, but his Sire 

74. 1 John iii. 3. 

83. Matt. iii. 16. Tt is supposed by most of the best commen 

tators, that the Holv Spirit descended not in the shape but in the 

manner of a dove upon our Saviour. Milton seems to have initr- 

preted it in a contrary way. 



BOOK I. 301 

He who obtains the monarchy of Heav'n, 
And what will he not do to' advance his Son ? 
His first-begot we know, and sore have felt, 
When his first thunder drove us to the deep ; 90 

Who this is we must learn, for man he seems 
In all his lineaments, though in his face 
The glimpses of his Father's glory shine. 
Ye see our danger on the utmost edge 
Of hazard, which admits no long debate, 95 

But must with something sudden be opposed. 
Not force, but well couch 'd fraud, well woven snares. 
Ere in the head of nations he appear 
Their king, their leader, and supreme on Earth. 
I, when no other durst, sole undertook 100 

The dismal expedition to find out 
And ruin Adam, and th' exploit perform'd 
Success.fully ; a calmer voyage now 
Will waft me ; and the way found prosp'rous once 
Induces best to hope of like sxiccess. 105 

He ended, and his words impression left 
Of much amazement to th' infernal crew. 
Distracted and surprised with deep dismay 
At these sad tidings ; but no time was then 
For long indulgence to their fears or grief; 110 

Unanimous they all commit the care 
And management of this main enterprise 
To him their great dictator, whose attempt 
At first against mankind so well had thrived 
In Adam's overthrow, and led their march 115 

From Hell's deep vaulted den to dwell in light, 
Regents and potentates, and kings, yea gods 
Of many a pleasant realm and province wide. 
So to the coast of Jordan he directs 
His easy steps, girded with snaky wiles, 120 

Where he might likeliest find this new declared. 
This Man of Men, attested Son of God, 
Temptation and all guile on him to try ; 
So to subvert whom he suspected raised 
To end his reign on Earth so long enjoy'd : 125 

91. There does not appear to be sufficient reason for this sup- 
position, that Satan did not at first know Christ to be the Messiah. 

122. Man of Men ; this has betn objected to, but without cause, 
as it well expresses the perfect humanity of Christ and the situa- 
tion in which he stood as the representative of our race. 



302 PARADISE REGAINED. 

But contrary unweeting he fulfill'd 

The purposed counsel pre-ordain'd and lix'd 

Of the Most High, who in full frequence bright 

Of ang'els, thus to Gabriel smiling- spake ; 

Gabriel, this day by proof thou shalt behold, 130 
Thou and all Angels conversant on Earth 
With man or men's affairs, how I begin, 
To verify that solemn message late. 
On which I sent thee to the Virgin pure 
In Galilee, that she should bear a son 135 

Great in renown, and call'd the Son of God ; 
Then told'st her doubting how these things could be 
To her a virgin, that on her should come 
The Holy Ghost, and the power of the Highest 
O'ershadow her : this man born and now upgrown, 
To shew him worthy of his birth divine J 41 

And high prediction, henceforth I expose 
To Satan ; let him tempt and now assay 
His utmost subtlety, because he boasts 
And vaunts of his great cunning to the throng 145 
Of his apostacy ; he might have learnt 
Less overweening since he fail'd in Job, 
Whose constant perseverance overcame 
Whatever his cruel malice could invent. 
He now shall know I can produce a Man 150 

Of female seed, far abler to resist 
All his solicitations, and at length 
All his vast force, and drive him back, to Hell, 
Winning by conquest what the first man lost 
By fallacy surprised. But first I mean 155 

To exercise him in the wilderness. 
There he shall first lay down the rudiments 
Of his great warfare, ere I send him forth 
To conquer Sin and Death, the two grand foes, 
By humiliation and long sufferance : 160 

His weakness shall o'crcome Satanic strength, 
And all the world, and mass of sinful flesh ; 
That all the Angels and ethereal Powers, 
They now, and men hereafter, may discern. 
From what consummate virtue I have chose 165 

129. Gabriel is frequently mentioned in Scripture as employed 
in the gospel dispensation. He is called by rabbinical writers- 
the Minister of Mercy, as Michael is the Minister of Severity. 



BOOK 1. 30B 

This perfect Man, "by merit call'd my Son, 
To earn salvation for the sons of men. 

So spake th* eternal Father, and all HeaY'n 
Admiring- stood a space, then into hymns 
Burst forth, and in celestial raeasures moved, 170 
Circling- the throne and singing", while the hand 
Sung with the voice, and this the argument. 

Victory and triumph to the Son of God, 
Now ent'ring- his great duel, not of arms, 
But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles. 175 

The Father knov/s the Son ; therefore secure 
Ventures his filial virtue, though untry'd, 
Ag-ainst whate'er may tempt, whatever seduce, 
Allure, or terrify, or undermine. 

Be frustrate all ye stratagems of Hell, 180 

And devilish machinations come to nought ! 

So they in Heav'n their odes and vigils tuned : 
Meanwhile the Son of God, who yet some days 
Lodged in Bethabara, where John baptized, 
Musing and much revolving- in his breast, 185 

How best the n\ig-hty v^ork he miglit begin 
Of Saviour to mankind, and which way first 
Publish his God-like office now naature. 
One day forth walk'd alone, the Spirit leading. 
And his deep thought the better to converse 190 

With Solitude, till far from track of men. 
Thought following- thought, and -step by step led on, 
He enter 'd now the bord'ring- desert wild. 
And with dark shades and rocks environ'd round, 
His holy meditations thus pursued : 195 

O what a multitude of thoughts at once 
Awaken'd in me swarm, while I consider 
What from within I feel myself, and hear 
What from without comes often to my ears, 
111 sorting- with my present state compared! 200 

When I was yet a child, no childish play 
To me was pleasing; ; all my mind was set 
Serious to leai'n f«nd know, and thence to do 

183. John i. 
189. This is well iniag-ined, bat the same approbation cannot be 
given to the passag-e immediately following, in which our Lord is 
represented as a soliloquizing' youtli Just starting on his new 
career of glory, rather tlran as the Messiah conscious not only o/ 
bis office but or his Divinity. 



S04 PARADISE REGAINED. 

What might be public g-ood ; myself I thought 

Born to that end, born to promote all truth, 205 

All righteous things : therefore above my years. 

The law of God I read, and found it sweet, 

Made it my whole delight, and in it grew 

To such perfection, that ere yet my age 

Had measured twice six years, at our great feast 210 

I went into the temple, there to hear 

The teachers of our law, and to propose 

What might improve my knowledge or their own ; 

And was admired by all ; yet this not all 

To which my spirit aspired ; victorious deeds 215 

Flamed in my heart, heroic acts, one while 

To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke, 

Then to subdue and quell o'er all the earth 

Brute violence and proud tyrannic pow'r, 

Till truth were freed, and equity restored : 220 

Yet held it more humane, more hcav'nly, first 

By winning words to conquer willing hearts, 

And make persuasion do the work of fear ; 

At least to try, and teach the erring soul 

Not wilfully misdoing, but unware 225 

Misled ; the stubborn only to subdue. 

These growing thoughts my mother soon perceiving. 

By words at times cast forth, inly rejoiced, 

And said to me apart, High are thy thoughts, 

G Son, but nourish them and let them soar 230 

To what height sacred virtue and true worth 

Can raise them, though above example high ; 

By matchless deeds express thy matchless Sire. 

For know, thou art no son of mortal man ; 

Though men esteem thee low of parentage, 235 

Thy Father is th' eternal King who rules 

All Heav'n and Earth, angels and sons of men ; 

A messenger from God foretold thy birth 

Conceived in me a virgin, he foretold 

Thou should'st be great, and sit on David's throne. 

And of thy kingdom there should be no end. Ml 

At thy nativity a glorious quire 

Of angels in the fields of Bethlehem sung 

To shepherds, watching at their folds by ni^ht 

204. John xviiST. sio. i^„ke jj. 41 



JBODK 1. 305 

And told them the Messiah now was born, 245 

Where they might see him, and to tiiee they came. 
Directed to the manger, where thou lay'st. 
For in the inn was left no better room : 
A star, not seen belore, in Heav'n appearing". 
Guided the wise men thither from the East, 250 

To honour thee with incense, myirh, and gold ; 
By whose bi'ight course led on, they found the place. 
Affirming- it thy star new grav'n in Heav'n, 
By v.'hich they knew the King- of Israel born. 
Just Simeon and prophetic Anna, warn'd 255 

By vision, found thee in the temple, and spake 
Before the altar and the vested priest. 
Like thing's of thee to all that present stood. 
This having heard, strait I again revolved 
The Law and Prophets, searching what was writ 260 
Concerning the Messiah, to our scribes 
Known partly, and soon found of whom they spake 
I am ; this chiefly, that my way must lie 
Thro\igh many a hard assay, even to the death, 
Ere I the promised kingdom can attain, 2(55 

Or work redemption for mankind, whose sins' 
Full weight must be transferr'd upon my head. 
Yet neither thus dishearten'd or dismay'd, 
The time prefix'd I waited, when behold 
The Baptist (of whose birth 1 oft had heard, 270 

Not knew by sight) now come, who was to come 
Before Messiah and his way prepare. 
I as all others to his baptism came, 
Which I believed was from above ; but he 
Strait knev/ me, and with loudest voice proclaim'd 
Me him (for it was shewn him so from Heav'n) 276 
Me him whose harbinger he was, and first 
Refused on me his baptism to confer. 
As much his greater, and was hardly won; 
But as I rose out of the laving stream, 280 

Heav'n open'd her eternal doors, from whence 
The Spirit descended on me like a dove ; 
And last, the sum of all, my Father's voice, 

255. Luke ii. 25. 36. 
271. Jesus and John were relations on the side of their mothers, 
but liavinq- be^n broiig-iit up at a distance, it is concluded from 
JoiiU i. 32. that the> were personally unknown to each other. 



306 PARADISE lUi^GAlNblD. 

Audibly heard from Heav'n, pronounced me his, 

Me his beloved Son, in whom alone 286 

He was well pleased; by which I knew the time 

Now full, that I no more sliould live obscure, 

But openly begin, as best becomes 

Th' authority which I derived from Heav'n. 

And now by some strong motion I am led 290 

Into this wilderness, to what intent 

I learn not yet, perhaps 1 need not know ; 

For what concerns my knowledge, God reveals. 

So spake our Morning* Star, then in his rise, 
And looking round on every side, beheld 295 

A pathless desert, dusk with horrid shades ; 
The way he came not having mark'd, return 
Was difficult, by human steps untrod ; 
And he still on was led, but with such thoughts 
Accompanied of things past and to come 300 

Lodged in his breast, as well might recommend 
Such solitude before choicest society. 
Full forty days he pass'd, whether on hill 
Sometimes, anon in shady vale, each night 
Under the covert of some ancient oak, 305 

Or cedar, to defend him from the dew. 
Or harbour'd in one cave, is not reveal'd ; 
Nor tasted human food, nor hunger felt. 
Till those days ended, hunger'd then at last 
-Among wild beasts : they at his sight grew mild, 310 
Nor sleeping him, nor waking harm'd, his walk 
The fiery serpent fled, and noxious worm. 
The lion and fierce tiger glared aloof. 
But now an aged man in rural weeds. 
Following, as seem'd, the quest of some stray ewe, 315 
Or wither'd sticks to gather, which might serve 
Against a winter's day when winds blow keen, 
To warm him wet return'd from field at eve, 

285. The fulness of time, Gal. iv. 4. 
307. Jiisiin reads, some cave. 

312. It is well remarked, that the description here g-iven. Is 
founded on asUirht expression in St. Mark's gospel, i. 13. in which 
alone it is found. The various particulars mentioned, are ob- 
served by Warburton to be beautifully introduced, as intimating 
the restoration of man's former state of secure innocence. Worm 
is a general term for reptile. 

314. It is supposed, that Milton took the idea of making Satan 
appear like an old man from a design by D. Vinkhorn. 



BOOK I. 307 

He saw approach, who first with curious eye 
Perused him, then with words thus utter 'd spake ; 320 

Sii% what ill-chance hath broug'ht thee to this place, 
So far from path, or road of men, who pass 
In troop, or caravan ? for single none 
Durst ever, who return'd, and dropt not here 
His carcase, pined with hunger and with drought. 325 
I ask the rather, and the more admire, 
For that to me thou seem'st the Man whom late 
Our new baptizing Prophet at the ford 
Of Jordan honour'd so, and call'd thee Son 
Of God; I saw and heard, for we sometimes 330 

Who dwell this wild, constrained by want, come forth 
To town or village nigh (nighest is far) 
Where ought we hear, and curious are to hear. 
What happens new ; fame also finds us out. 

To whom the Son of God : Who brought me hither. 
Will bring me hence ; no other guide I seek. 336 

By miracle he may, reply'd the swain. 
What other way I see not, for we here 
Live on tough roots and stubs, to thirst inured 
More than the camel, and to drink go far, 340 

Men to such misery and hardship born ; 
But if thou be the Son of God, command 
That out of these hard stones be made thee bread, 
So shalt thou save thyself and us relieve 
With food whereof we v/retched seldom taste. 345 

He ended, and the Son of God reply'd : 
Think'st thou such force in bread? Is it not written 
CFor I discern thee other than thou seem'st) 
Man lives not by bread only, but each word 
Proceeding from the mouth of God, who fed 350 

Our fathers here with manna? in the mount 
Moses was forty days, nor ate nor drank ; 
And forty days Elijah without food 
Wander'd this barren waste ; the same I now : 
Why dost thou then suggest to me distrust, 355 

Knowing who 1 am, as I know who thou art 1 

Whom thus answer'd th' Arch-fiend, now undis- 
'Tis true, I am that Spirit unfortunate, [guised: 

Who leagued with millions more in rash revolt 
Kept not my happy station, bat was driven 360 

VV^ith them from bliss to the bottomless deeo. 



SaS PARADISE REGAINED. 

Yet to that hideous place not so confined 

By rigour unconniving", Imt that oft 

Leaving- my dolorous prison, I enjoy 

Large liberty to round this globe of earth, 365 

Or range in th' air, nor from the Heav'n of Heav'ns 

Hath he excluded my resort sometimes. 

I came among the sons of God, when he 

Gave up into my hands Uzzean Job 

To prove him, and illustrate his high worth ; 370 

And when to all his angels he proposed 

To draw the proud king Ahab into fraud 

That he might fall in Ramoth, they demurring", 

1 undertook that office, and the tongues 

Of all his flatt'ring prophets glibb'd with lies 375 

To his destruction, as I had in charge. 

For what he bids I do: though I have lost 

Much lustre of my native brightness, lost 

To be beloved of God, I have not lost 

To love, at least contemplate and admire, 380 

What I see excelleJit in good, or fair, 

Or virtuous, I should so have lost all sense. 

What can be then less in me than desire 

To see thee and approach thee, whom I know 

Declared the Son of God, to hear attent 385 

Thy wisdom, and behold thy godlike deeds'? 

Men geiierally think me such a foe 

To all mankind : why should 1 1 they to me 

NeA'er did wrong or violence ; by them 

I lost not what I lost, rather by them 390 

I gain'd what I have gain'd, and with them dwell 

Copartner in these regions of the world, 

If not disposer, lend them oft my aid. 

Oft my advice by presages and signs. 

And answers, oracles, portents and dreams, 393 

Whereby they may direct their future life. 

Envy they say excites me, thus to gain 

Companions of my misei'y and woe. 

At first it may be ; but long since with woe 

Nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof, 400 

That fellowship in pain divides not smart, 

368, Job i. 6. 

372. Fraud ; mischief, so used in Par. Lost, ix. 643. 

See 1 Kings xxii. 19. 



BOOK I. a09 

Nor lightens Oub^lit each man's peculiar load. 
Small consolation then, were man adjoined : 
This wounds me most (what can it less ?) that man, 
Man fairn, shall be restored, I never more. 405 

To whom our Saviour sternly thus reply'd : 
Deservedly thou griev'st, composed of lies 
From the beginning-, and in lies wilt end; 
Who boast'st release from Hell, and leave to come 
Into the Heav'n of Heav'ns : thou com'st indeed, 410 
As a poor miserable captive thrall 
Comes to the place where he before had sat 
Among the prime in splendour, now deposed, 
Ejected, emptied, gazed, unpitied, shunn'd, 
A spectacle of ruin or of scorn 415 

To all the host of Heav'n : the happy place 
Imparts to thee no happiness, no joy, 
Rather inflames thy torment, representing 
Lost bliss, to thee no more communicable, 
So never more in Hell than when in Heav'n. 420 
But thou art serviceable to Heav'n's King. 
Wilt thou impute t' obedience what thy fear 
Extorts, or pleasure to do ill excites 1 
What hnt thy malice moved thee to misdeem 
Of righteous Job, then cruelly to' afflict him 425 

With all inflictions? but his patience won. 
The other service was thy chosen task. 
To be a liar in four hundred mouths ; 
For lying is thy sustenance, thy food. 
Yet thou pretend'st to truth ; all oracles 430 

By thee are given, and what confess'd more true 
Among the nations ? that hath been thy craft, 
By mixing somewhat true to vent more lies. 
But what have been thy answers, what but dark, 
Ambiguous, and with double sense deluding, 431^ 

402. The word niaii here, is not employed by Satan in con- 
nexion with his own person, but so as to make the passag'e bear 
tlie following meaning-: I now know by experience, that men by 
suffering' in multitudes have not the less sense of suffering, and 
therefore that if join^l with me, they could not alleviate mine. 
417. Imports, in several editions. 

434. The ambiguity of the ancient oracles in the answers they 
gave is well known,' and it is most probable that Satan worked 
the destruction of his votaries as often as their success. It is 
supposed by several writers on the subject that when true anewer* 
were returned, a good angel was sent by God to preside : ao 
line 447. 



310 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Which they who ask'd have seldom understood. 

And not well understood, as good not known ? 

AVhoever by consulting- at thy shrine 

Return'd the wiser, or the more instruct 

To fly or follow what concern'd him most, 440 

Amd run not sooner to his fatal snare ? 

For God hath justly given the nations up 

To thy delusions ; justly since they fell 

Idolatrous : but when his purpose is 

Among them to declare his providence 445 

To thee not known, whence hast thou then thy truth, 

But from him or his Angels president 

In every province ; who themselves disdaining 

To approach thy temples, give thee in command 

What to the smallest tittle thou shalt say 450 

To thy adorers : thou with trembling- fear, 

Or like a fawning parasite, obey'st ; 

Then to thyself ascrib'st the truth foretold. 

But this thy glory shall be soon retrench'd ; 

No more shalt thou by oracling- abuse 455 

The Gentiles ; henceforth oracles are ceased. 

And thou no more with pomp and sacrifice 

Shalt be inquired at Delphos or elsewhere. 

At least in vain, for they shall iind thee mute. 

God hath now sent his Living- Oracle 460 

Into the world to teach his final will. 

And sends his Spirit of Truth henceforth to dwell 

In pious hearts, an inward oracle 

To all truth requisite for men to know. 

So spake our Saviour, but the subtle Fiend, 465 
Though inly stung' with anger and disdain 
Dissembled, and this answer smooth return'd: 

Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke. 
And urged me hard with doings, which not will 
But misery hath wrested from me : where 170 

Easily canst thou find one miserable, 
And not enforced oft-times to part from truth ; 
If it may stand him more in stead to lie. 
Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure? 
But thou art placed above me, thou art Lord, 40'5 
From thee I can, and must, submiss endure 

458. Delphos was the seat of the most celebrated oracle 
known in ancient times. 



BOOK I. 311 

Check or reproof, and ^lad to 'scape so quit. 

Hard are tlie ways of Truth, and rough to walk. 

Smooth on the tongue discoursed, pleasing- to th' car> 

And tuneable as sylvan pipe or song ; 450 

What wonder then if I delight to hear 

Her dictates from thy mouth? most men admire 

Virtue, who follow not her lore ; permit me 

To hear thee when I come (since no man comes). 

And talk at least, though I despair to' attain. 485 

Thy Father, who is holy, wise and pure. 

Suffers the hypocrite, or atheous priest. 

To tread his sacred courts, and minister 

About his altar, handling holy things. 

Praying or vowing, and vouchsafed his voice 490 

To Balaam reprobate, a prophet yet 

Inspired ; disdain not such access to me. 

To whom our Saviour with unalter'd brow : 
Thy coming hither, though I know thy scope, 
I .bid not or forbid ; do as thou lind'st 495 

Permission from above ; thou canst not more. 

He added not; and Satan bowing low 
His grey dissimxilation, disappear 'd 
^nto thin air diffused : for now began 
Night with her sullen wings to double shade 500 
The desert ; fowls in their clay nests were couch'd ; 
And now wild beasts came forth the woods to ro&n>« 



BOOK 11. 

THE ARGUMENT. 

The disciples of Jesus, uneasy at liis long absence, revoa 
amongst themselves concerning' ft. Mary also gives vent to her 
maternal anxiety ; in tlie expression of "which she recapitulates 
many circumstances respecting tlie birth ancS early life of her Son. 
Satan again meets his infeinai council, reports the bad success o( 
his first temptation of our blessed Lord, and calls upon them for 
council and assistance. Belial proposes the tempting of Jesus 
with women. Satan rebukes Belial for his dissoluteness, charging 
on him all the profliiiacy of that kind ascribed by the poets to the 
heathen gods, and rejects his proposal as in no respect likely to 
succeed. Satan then suggests other modes of temptation, parti- 
cularly proposing to avail himself of the circumstance of our 
Lord's hungering ; and, taking a band of chosen spirits with liim, 
returns to resume his enterprise. Jesns hungers in the desert. 
Night comes on ; the manner in which our Saviour passes the 
night is described. Mornirig advances. Satan aguin appears to 
Jesus, and, after expressing wonder that he should be so entirely 
neglected in the wilderness, v/here others had been miraculously 
fed, tempts him with a sumptuous banquet of the most luxurious 
kind. This he rejects, and the banquet vanishes. Satan, finding 
our Lord not to be assailed on the ground of appetite, tempts hira 
again by offering him riches, as the means of acquiring power ; 
tiiis Jesus also rejects, producing many instances of Grreat actions 
performed by persons under virtuous poverty, and specifying the 
danger of riches, and the cares and pains inseparable from power 
and grtatness. 

Mean while the new-baptized, who yet remain'd 
At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen 
Him whom they heard so late expressly call'd 
Jesus Messiah, Son of God declared. 
And on that high authority had believed, 5 

And with him talk'd, and with him lodged, I mean 
Andrew and Simon, famous after known, 
With others, though in Holy Writ not named. 
Now naissing him their joy so lately found, 
So lately found, and so abruptly gone, 10 

Began to doubt, and doubted many days. 
And as the days increased, increased their doubt : 
Sometimes they thought be might be only shewn, 

1. The almost only variety in the work is in the commencement 
of this book, but it is very slight, and can-hardly save the poem 
from the charge of being too uniform in its narrative and in the 
unornamented style of its language 

4. Warburton has observed, that Mnton is under error here, as 
the people could only have learnt from what John had said, liiat 
Jesus was a great prophet. 



BOOK II. 313 

A.nd for a time caught up to Go<?, as once 

Moses was in the mount, and missing long ; 15 

And the great Thisbite, who on fiery wheels 

Rode up to Heav'n, yet once again to come. 

Therefore, as those young prophets then with care 

Sought lost Elijah, so in each place these 

Nigh to BetViabara ; in Jericho 20 

The city of Palms, iEnom, and Salem old, 

Machaerus, and each town or city wall'd 

On this side the broad lake Genezaret, 

Or in Peraea ; but return 'd in vain. 

Then on the bank of Jordan, by a creek, 25 

Where winds with reeds and osiers whisp'ring play, 

Plain fishermen, no greater men them call. 

Close in a cottage low together got, 

Their unexpected loss and plaints outhreath'd. 

Alas, from what high hope to what relapse 30 

Unlook'd-for are we fallen I oar eyes beheld 
Messiah certainly now come, so long 
Expected of our fathers ; we have heard 
His words, his wisdom, full of grace and truth; 
Now, now, for sure, deliverance is at hand, 35 

The kingdom shall to Israel be restored ; 
Thus we rejoiced, but soon our joy is turn'd 
Into perplexity and new amaze : 
For whither is he gone, what accident 
Hath wrapt him from us 1 will he now retire 40 

After appearance, and again prolong 
Our expectation ? God of Israel, 
Send thy Messiah forth the time is come ; 
Behold the kings of th' earth how they oppress 
Thy chosen, to what height their power unjust 45 
They have exalted, and behind them cast 
All fear of thee ; arise ajid vindicate 
Thy glory, free thy people from their yoke. 
But let us wait ; thus far he hath perform'd. 
Sent his Anointed, and to us reveal'd him, 50 

By his great Prophet, pointed at and shewn 

16. 1 King's xvii. 1. 18. 2 King^s ii. 17. 

22. Macharus, a castle in the country beyond Jordan, named 

Peraea. 

23. Genezaret ; the same as the sea of Tiberias, or the 

sea of Galilee. 

34. John i. 14. .'16. Acts i. 6. 

P 



314 PARADISE REGAINED. 

In public, and with him we have conversed : 

Let u? be glad of this, and aii our fears 

Lay on his Providence ; he will not fail, 

Nor will withdraw him now, nor will recall, 5I» 

Mock us with his blest sight, then snatch him hence ; 

Soon shall we see our Hope, our Joy, return. 

Thus they out of their plaints new hopes resume, 
To find whom at the first they foxind unsought : 
But to his mother Mary, when she saw 60 

Others returned from baptism, not her son, 
Nor left at Jordan tidings of him none, [pure, 

Within her breast though calm, her breast though 
Motherly cares and fears got head, and raised 
Some troubled thoughts, which she in sighs thus clad : 

O what avails me now that honour high 66 

To have conceived of God, or that salute, 
Hail, highly favour'd, among women blest! 
While I to sorrows am no less advanced, 
And fears as eminent, above the lot 70 

Of other women, by the birth I bore, 
In such a season bom when scarce a shed 
Could be obtain'd to shelter him or me 
From the bleak air ; a stable was our warmth, 
A manger his : yet soon enforced to fly 75 

Thence into Egypt, till the murd'rous king 
Were dead, who sought his life, and missing fill'd 
With infant blood the streets of Bethlehem ; 
From Egypt home returned in Nazareth 
Hath been our dwelling many years, his life 80 

Private, unactive, calm, contemplative. 
Little suspicious to any king; but now 
Full grown to man, acknowledged, as I hear. 
By John the Baptist, and in public shewn. 
Son own'd from Heaven by his Father * ^ ^r.^ '. R5 
I look'd for some great change ; to honoi^r'J m 
But trouble ; as old Simeon plain foretold, 
That to the fall and rising he should be 
Of many in Israel, and to a sig-n 

Spoken against, that through my very soul 90 

A sword shall pierce : this is my favour'd lot. 
My exaltation to afSictions high ! 

•9. Nazareth was in Galilee, a despised part of the country ; 
hence John i. 46. 



BOOK 11. 315 

/Ifflicted I may be, it seems, and blest ; 

I will not argue that, nor will repine : 

But where delays he now? some great intent 95 

Conceals him : when twelve years he scarce had seen, 

I lost him, but so found, as well I saw 

He could not lose himself ; but went about 

His father's business ; what he meant 1 mused, 

Since understand ; much more his absence now lOii 

Thus long- to some great purpose he obscures. 

But I to wait with patience am inured ; 

My heart hath been a store-house long of things 

And say'ings laid up, portending strange events. 

Thus Mary pond'ring oft, and oft to mind 103 

Recalling what remarkably had pass'd 
Since first her salutation heard, with thoughts 
]V[eekIy composed, awaited the fulfilling; 
The while her Son, ti-acing the desert wild, 
Sole, but with holiest meditations fed, 110 

Into himself descended, and at once 
All his great work, to come before him set ; 
How to begin, how to accomplish best 
His end of being on earth, and mission high : 
For Satan with sly preface to return 11 

Had left him vacant, and with speed was gone 
Up to the middle region of thick air, 
Where all his potentates in council sat ; 
There without sign of boast, or sign of joy, 
Solicitous and blank, he thus began: 120 

Princes, Heav'n's ancient Sons, ethereal Thrones, 
Demonian Spirits now, from th' element 
Each of his reign allotted, rightlier call'd 
Powers of Fire, Air, Water, and Earth beneath, 
Si may we hold our place and these mild seats 125 
Without new trouble ; such an enemy 
Is risen to invade vis, who no less 
Threatens than our expulsion down to Hell ; 

103. The character o» Mary, thouo-h it ran be hardly considered 
as described, is finely touched. Tlie allusion here is to Luke ii. 
19. 51. 

122. It was the opinion of the ancients, that every element as 
well as every corner of the earth hjd ibs peculiar demons. The 
same opinion appears to have bv^en upheld during- the middle 
ag-es, and Milton, it is supposed, borrowed many of his notions 
from the strang-e and mystical works "vhich were formerly written 
on the subject. 



S16 PARADISE REGAINED. 

I, as I undoT'took, and with the vote 

Consenting- ia full frequence was impower'd, I?,0 

Have found him, view'd him, tasted him, but find 

Far other labour to be undergone 

Than when I dealt with Adam, first of men. 

Though Adam by his wife s allurement fell, 

However to this Man inferior far, 135 

If he be man by mother's side at least. 

With more than human gifts from Heav'n adorn'd. 

Perfections absolute, graces divine, 

And amplitude of mind to greatest deeds; 

Therefore I am return'd, lest confidence 140 

Of my success with Eve in Paradise 

Deceive ye to persuasion over-sure 

Of like succeeding- here ; I summon all 

Rather to be in i*eadiness, with hand 

Or council to assist : lest I, who erst 145 

Thoug-ht none my equal, now be over-match'd. 

So spake th' old Serpent doubting, and from all 
With clamour was assured their utmost aid 
At his command ; when from amidst them rose 
Belial, the dissolutest spirit that fell, 150 

The sensualest, and, after Asmodai, 
The fleshliest incubus, and thus advised : 

Set women in his eye, and in his walk. 
Among daughters of men, the fairest found *, 
Many are in each region passing fair 155 

As the noon sky : more like to goddesses 
Than mortal creatures, graceful and discreet, 
Expert in amoi-ous arts, enchanting tongues 
Persuasive, virgin nvdjesty with mild 
And sweet allay'd, yet terrible to' approach, 180 

Skill'd to retire, and in retiring draw 
Hearts after them tangled in amoi-ous nets. 
Su.-h object hath the power to soften and tame 
Severest temper, smooth the rugged'st brow, 
Eiierve, and with voluptuous hope dissolve, 165 

Draw out with credulous desire, and lead 
At will the manliest, resolutest breast, 
As the magnetic hardest iron draws. 
Women, when nothing else, beguiled the heart 

168. Mafrnetic ; the adjective for the substantive, as in 
instances pointed out in the "ar. I ost. 



BOOK IT. 317 

Of wisest Solomon, and made him build, 170 

And made him bow, to the gods of his wives. 

To whom quick answer Satan thus return'd: 
Belial, in much uneven scale thou weigh'st 
All others by thyself; because of old 
Thou thyself doat'dst on womankind, admiring 175 
Their shape, their colour, and attractive grace, 
None are, thou think'st, but taken with such toys. 
Before the flood thou with thy lusty crew. 
False titled Sons of God, roaming the earth 
Cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men, 180 

And coupled with them, and begot a race. 
Have we not seen, or by relation heard, 
In courts and regal chambers how thou lurk'st, 
In wood or grove by mossy fountain side, 
In valley or green meadow, to way-lay 185 

Some beauty rare, Calisto, Clymene, 
Daphne, or Semele, Antiopa, 
Or Amymone, Syrinx, many more 
Too long, then lay'st thy 'scapes on names adored, 
Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan, 190 

Satyr, or Faun, or Sylvan? But these haunts 
Delight not all ; among the sons of men. 
How many have with a smile made small account 
Of Beauty and her lures, easily scorn'd 
All her assaults, on worthier things intent ? 195 

Remember that Pellean conqueror, 
A youth, how all the beauties of the East 
He slightly view'd, and slightly overpass'd; 
How he surnamed of Africa dismiss'd 
In his prime youth the fair Iberian maid. 200 

For Solomon, he lived at ease, and full 
Of honour, wealth, high fare, aim'd not beyond 
Higher design than to enjoy his state ; 
Thence to the bait of women lay exposed : 
But he whom we attempt is wiser far 205 

Than Solomon, of more exalted mind, 

178, Milton here appears to favour the common notion of the 
ang-els having united with the daughters of men, but he expresses 
a contrary opinion, Par. Lost, xi. 621. 

196. Alexander tlie Great, born at Pella, in Macedonia; his 
conduct towards the wife and daughters of Darius was distin- 
guished for continency :— as was Scipio's, surnamed Atricaniw, 
on a similar occasion. 



318 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Made and set wholly on th' accomplishment 

Of greatest things ; what wor«an will you find, 

Though of this age the wonder and the fame, 

On whom his leisure will vouchsafe an eye 21J 

Of fond desire? Or should she, confident. 

As sitting queen adored on Beauty's throne. 

Descend with all her winning charms begirt 

To' enamour, as the zone of Venus once 

Wrought that eifect on Jove, so fables tell ; 215 

How would one look from his majestic brow. 

Seated as on the top of Virtue's hill, 

Discount'nance her despised, and put to rout 

All her array ; her female pride deject, 

Or turn to reverent awe ; for Beauty stands 220 

In th' admiration only of weak minds 

Led captive ; cease to' admire, and all her plumes 

Fall flat, and shrink into a trivial toy, 

At every sudden slighting quite abash'd : 

Therefore with manlier objects we must try 225 

His constancy, with such as have more show 

Of worth, of honour, glory', and popular praise ; 

Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck'd; 

Or that which only seems to satisfy 

Lawful desires of Nature, not beyond ; 230 

And now I know he hungers v/here no food 

Is to be found, in the wide v;ilderness : 

The rest commit to me, I shall let pass 

No advantage, and his strength as oft assay. 

He ceased, and heard their grant in loud acclaim; 
Then forthwith to him takes a chosen band 236 

Of spirits likest to himself in guile 
To be at hand, and at his beck appear. 
If cause were to unfold some active scene 
Of various persons, each to know his part , 240 

Then to the desert takes with these his flight; 
Where still from shade to shade the Son of God 
After forty days' fasting had remain'd, 
Now hung'ring first, and to himself thus said : 

Where will this end ? four times ten days I've pass'd 
Wand'ring this woody maze, and human food 246 
Nor tasted, nor had appetite ; that fast 

544. An inaccuracy has been pointed out in this line, as our 
Saviour did not now first hunger. 



BOOK ir. 319 

To virtue I impute not, or count part 

Of what I suiFer here ; if Nature need not, 

Or God support Nature without repast 250 

Though needing, what praise is it to endure I 

But now I feel I hung-er, which declares 

Nature hath need of what she asks ; yet God 

Can satisfy that need some other way, 

Thougih hunger still remain : so it remain 255 

V¥ithout this body's wasting, I content me. 

And tVom the sting of famine fear no harm. 

Nor mind it, fed with better thoughts that feed 

Me hung'ring more to do my Father's will. 

It was the hour of night, when thus the Son 2fll) 
Communed in silent walk, then laid him down 
Under the hospitable covert nigh 
Of trees thick interwoven ; there he slept 
And dream'd as appetite is wont to dream. 
Of meats and drinks. Nature's refreshment sweet ; 
Him thought, he by the brook of Cherith stood, 261 
And saw the ravens with their horny beaks 
Food to Elijah bringing even and morn, 
Tiiough ravenous, taught to' abstain from what they 
Me saw the prophet also how he fled [brought; 

Into the desert, and how there he slept 271 

Under a juniper; then how awaked 
tie found his supper on the coals prepared. 
And by the angel was bid rise and eat, 
uiJ eat the second time after repose, 275 

The strength whereof sufliced him forty days ; 
Sometimes that with Elijah he partook. 
Or as a guest v/ith Daniel at his pulse. 

Thus wore out night, and now the herald lark 
Left liis ground-nest, high tow'ring to descry US9 
The Morn's approach, and greet her with his song : 
As lightly from his grassy couch uprose 
Our Saviour, and found all was but a dream. 
Fasting he went to sleep, and fasting waked : 
Up to a hill anon his steps he rear'd, 283 

Fi"om whose high top to ken the prospect round. 
If cottage Avere in view, sheep-cote or herd; 

259. John iv. 34. 

26G. Htm thought, as we say, me thoug^ht. 1 King's xvii. a, o. 

and six. 4. Dan. i. 



320 PARA.DISE REGAINED. 

But cottage, herd, or sheep-cote none he saw 

Only' in a bottom saw a pleasant grove, 

With chaunt of tuneful birds resounding loud ; 290 

Thither he bent his way, determined there 

To rest at noon, and enter'd soon the shade 

High rooft, and walks beneath, and alleys brown, 

That open'd in the midst a woody scene ; 

Nature's own work it seem'd (Nature taught Art) 

And to a superstitious eye the haunt 296 

Of wood-gods and wood-nymphs ; he view'd it round, 

When suddenly a man before him stood. 

Not rustic as before, but seemlier clad, 

As one in city' or court, or palace bred, 300 

A.nd with fair speech these words to him address'd : 

With granted leave officious I return, 
But much more wonder that the Son of God 
In this wild solitude so long should bide 
Of all things destitute, and well I know 305 

Not without hunger. Others of some note. 
As story tells, have trod this wilderness; 
The fugitive bond-woman with her son 
Outcast Nebaioth, yet found here relief 
By a providing angel ; all the race 310 

Of Israel here had famish'd, had not God 
Rain'a from Hea/'n manna ; and that prophet bold 
Native of Thebez, wand'ring here was fed 
Twice by a voice inviting him to eat : 
Of thee these forty days none hath regard, 315 

Forty and more deserted here indeed. 

To whom thus Jesus : What conclud'st thou hence ? 
They all had need, I, as thou seest, have none. 

How hast thou hunger then? Satan replied: 
Tell me, if food were now before thee set, 320 

Would'st thou not eat ? Thereafter as I like 
The giver, answer'd Jesus. Why shoiild that 
Cause thy refusal? said the subtle fiend. 
Hast thou not right to all created things? 
Owe not all creatures by just right to thee 325 

308. Gen. xvi. 6. Nebaioth was the eldest son of Ishmael, 

and it is supposed is here put by mistaiie for the latter. 

313. Thebez, Tishbe, where Elijah was born, hence the allusion. 

The wilderness in which our Saviour was at this time, was not 

the same with those in which Hagar, &c. are represented as wan- 

()«iriusr 



B(U)K If. $2\ 

Uuty and sers'ice not to stay till bid, 
But tender all their power ? nor mention 1 
Meats by the law unclean, or offer'd first 
To idols, those young Daniel could refuse ; 
Nor proffer'd by an enemy, though who 3dO 

Would scruple that, with v/ant oppress'd? Behold, 
Nature ashamed, or, better to express, 
Troubled that thou shouldst hunger, hath pui'vey'd 
From all the elements her choicest store 
To treat thee as beseems, and as her Lord, 3^5 

With honour: only deign to sit and eat. 

He spake no dream, for as his words had end. 
Our Saviour lifting up his eyes beheld 
In ample space under the broadest shade 
A table richly spread, in regal mode, 340 

With dishes piled, and meats of noblest sort 
And savour, beasts of chase, or fowl of g'ame. 
In pastry built, or from the spit, or boil'd, 
Gris-amber-steam'd ; all fish from sea or shore. 
Freshet, or purling- brook, of shell or fin, 345 

And exquisitest name, for which was drain'd 
Pontus, and Lucrine bay, and Afric coast. 
Alas ! how simple, to these cates compared. 
Was that crude apple that diverted Eve ! 
And at a stately side-board, by the wine 350 

That fragrant smell diffused, in order stood 
Tall stripling youths rich clad, of fairer hue 
Than Ganymed or Hylas ; distant Kiore 
Under the trees now tripp'd, now solemn stood, 
Nymphs of Diana's train, and Naiades, 355 

With fruit.s and flov/'rs from Amalthea's horn, 
And ladies of th' Hesperides, that seem'd 
Fairer than feign'd of old, or fabled since 
Of faery damsels met in forest wide 
By knights of LogTes, or of Lyones, 360 

Lancelot, or Pelleas, or Pellenore : 
And all the while harmonious airs were heard 
Of chiming strings, or charming pipes, and winds 
Of gentlest gale Arabian odours fann'd 

344. Gru-amher, Ambergris was formerly used to great excess 
in the flavouring of certain dishes. 

347. The places here mentioned were famous m antiquity for 
their fish. 

319. Diverted, in the Latin sense, turned aside. 
P2 



S22 PARADISE REGAINED 

From their soft wings, and Flora's earliest smells. 334 
Such was the splendour, and the Tempter now 
His invitation earnestly renewed. 

What doubts the Son of God to sit and eat? 
These are not fruits forbidden ; no interdict 
Defends the touching- of these viands pure ; 370 

Their taste no knowledg-e works, at least of evil. 
But life preserves, destroys life's enemy, 
Hung:er, with sweet restorative delig-ht. 
All these are spirits of air> and woods, and spring".^, 
Thy g-entle ministers, who come to pay 375 

Thee homag'e, and acknowledg'e thee their Lord : 
What doubt'st thou, Son of God 1 sit down and eat. 

To whom thus Jesus temp'rately reply'd : 
Said'st thou not that to all things I had right? 
And who withholds my power that right to use 1 H&O 
Shall 1 receive by gift what of my own, 
When and where likes me best, I can command? 
I can at will, doubt not, as soon as thou. 
Command a table in this wilderness. 
And call swift flights of angels ministrant 385 

Array 'd in glory on my cup to' attend : 
Why shouldst thou then obtrude this diligence, 
In vain, where no acceptance it can find ? 
And with my hunger what hast thou to do? 
Thy pompous delicacies I contemn, 390 

A.nd count thy specious gifts no gifts but guiles. 

To whom thus answer'd Satan malecontent ; 
That I have also power to give thou seest; 
If of that power I bring thee voluntary 
What I might have bestow'd on whom I pleased, 395 
And rather opportunely in this place 
Chose to impart to thy apparent need. 
Why shouldst thou not accept it? but I see 
What I can do or offer is suspect ; 
Of these things others quickly will dispose, 400 

Whose pains have earn'd the far-fet spoil. With that 
Both table and provision vanish'd quite 
With sound of harpies' wings, and talons heard ; 

S73. Defends; as in Par. Lost, like the French defendref to 
forbid. 385. So in Shakspeare's Hamlet, Act 5, Sc. 6. 

401. Fe^ instead of fetched, for softness; the word is used by 
Chaucer, Spenser, &c. 



BOOK II. 323 

Only th' impdrtune Tempter still remain'd, 

And with these words his temptation pursued : 405 

By hunger, that each other creature tames, 
Thou art not to be harm'd ; therefore not moved ; 
Thy temperance invincible besides. 
For no allurement yields to appetite. 
And all thy heart is set on high designs, 410 

High actions; but wherewith to be achieved? 
Great acts require great means of enterprise ; 
Thou art un.vnown, unfriended, low of birth, 
A carpenter thy father known, thyself 
Bred up in poverty and straits at home, 415 

Lost in a desert here and hunger-bit ; 
Which way, or from what hope, dost thou aspire 
To greatness'? whence authority derivest? 
What followers, what retinue, canst thou gain. 
Or at thy heels the dizzy multitude, 4^ 

Long-er than thou canst feed them on thy cost? 
Money bring-s honour, friends, conquest, and realms : 
What raised Antipater the Edomite, 
And his son Herod placed on Judah's throne 
(Thy throne), but g"old that got him puissant friends t 
Therefore, if at great things thou would'st ai'rive, 420 
Get riches first, get wealth, and treasure heap. 
Not difficult, if thou heai'ken to me ; 
Riches are mine, Fortune is in my hand ; 
They whom 1 favour thrive in wealth amain, 430 
While Virtue, Valour, Wisdom, sit in want. 

To whom thus Jesus patiently reply 'd : 
Yet wealth without these three is impotent 
To gain dominion, or to keep it gain'd. 
Witness those ancient empires of the earth, 433 

In highth of all their flowing wealth dissolved : 
But men endued with these have oft attain'd 
In lowest poverty to highest deeds ; 
Gideon, and Jephtha, and the shepherd lad, 

420. This verse is elliptical, and requires the verb gain to be 
understood. 

423. Antipater was the father of Flerod, whom it is supposed 
he got raised to the throne of Judea, through the influence of his 
wealth. 

429. This temptation as well as that of the feast, the reader will 
recognise as the invention of the poet, and not formiug a part oi 
UiG Scripture narrative. 

439. The shepherd lad, David, 



S24 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Whose oiTspriiig on the throne of Judah sat 4'10 

So many ages, and shall yet regain 

That seat, and reign in Israel without end. 

Among- the Heathen (for throughout the world 

To me is not unknown what hath been done 

Worthy of memorial), canst thou not remember '445 

Quintius, Fabricius, Curius, Regulus 1 

For I esteem those names of men so poor 

Who could do mighty things, and could contemn 

Riches, though offer'd from the hand of kings. 

And what in me seems wanting-, but that 1 450 

May also in this poverty as soon 

Accomplish what they did, perhaps and more 1 

Extol not riches then, the toil of fools, 

The wise man's curabrance if not snare, more apt 

To slacken virtue, and abate her edg-e, 455 

Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise. 

What if with like aversion I reject 

Riches and realms ? yet not for that a crown. 

Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns, 

Brings dang-ers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights. 

To him who wears the regal diadem, 461 

When on his shoulders each man's burden lies ; 

For therein stands the office of a king, 

His honour, virtue, merit, and chief praise. 

That for the public all this weight he bears. 46? 

Yet he who reigns Avithin himself, and rules 

Passions, desires, and fears, is more a king; 

Which every wise and virtuous man attains : 

And who attains not, ill aspires to rule 

Cities of men, or headstrong multitudes, 47* 

Subject himself to anarchy within, 

Or lawless passions in him which he serves. 

But to guide nations in the way of truth 

By saving doctrine, and from error lead 

To know, and knowing worship God aright, 47S 

Is yet more kingly ; this attracts the soul, 

446. Quintius; Cincinnatus, who was ploug'hine;' when called to 
he the Dictator of Roiue.— Fair iciw*, another Roman, who, thoug-h 
offered ahundant wealth by king Pyrrhus, returned to his home, 
and lived and died in poverty. — Curius JJenlatus, and Rcgnhis, 
Romans also. The farmer rejected the riches offered both by his 
cx)untrymen and foreig-ners, the lattei braved the most frig-htful 
torments from the Carthag-inians, rather than persuade his country 
to njake peace with them 



BOOK II. 325 

Gorerns the inner man, the nobler part ; 

That other o'er the body only reigns. 

And oft by force, which to a generous mind 

So reig-ning can be no sincere delight. (180 

Besides, to give a kingdom hath been thought 

Greater and nobler done, and to lay down 

Far more magnanimous than to assume. 

Riches are needless then, both for themselves, 

And for thy reason why they should be sought, 485 

To gain a sceptre, oftest better miss'd. 

481. The great examples which monarchs have given of abdi 
eating their" thrones were after the time of our Saviour, but it 
is most probable Milton had Diocletian and Charles V. in hii» 
mind. I here is a great deal of noble sentiment in the above 
reply of our Lord ; but the noblest morality of philosophy fails 
of inspiring those particular feelings of awe and trembling ex- 
pectation with which the scene of Christ's mysterious contest fills 
the mind. Milton's imagination was, if I may use the expression, 
the imagination of sense, of vision, and material forms; his con- 
ception ^of purely spiritual things was imperfect, and hence his 
frequent recourse to the set phrases and moral aphorisms of the 
classic philosophers, when it is the exposition of llie spirit itself, 
not of particular sentiment, which the mind requires. Through- 
out the poem the defect of his genius in this respect is constantly 
evident; our Saviour speaks through Milton's memory; no 
thought occurs which shews the God-man, as the one sole being 
who through eternity has united divinity and humanity, and tlie 
answers he makes might be put into the mouth of any virtuous 
and gifted mortal. The design of Paradise Regained, notwith- 
standing all commentators may say, was sufficiently large and 
perfect for a most noble poem, but the author wanted, to make 
.uch a pian successful, a mind more fond of searching into th« 
iieat springs of thouarht a^vji power. 



326 

BOOK III. 

THE ARGUMENT. 

Satan, in a speech of much flattering- commendation, endea- 
vours to awaken in Jesus a passion for glory, by particnlarizino: 
various instances of conquests achieved, and great actions per- 
formed, by persons at an early period of life. Our Lord replies, 
by shewing the vanity of worldly fame, and tne improper means 
by which it is arenerally attained ; and contrasts with it the true 
g-iory of religious patience and virtuous wisdom, as exemplitied 
in the character ot Job. Satan justifies the love of glory from 
the example of God himself, who requires it from all his crea- 
tures. Jesus detects the fallacy of this argument, by shewing that, 
as goodness is the true ground on which'glory is due to the great 
Creator of all things, sinful man can have no right whatever to 
it.- Satan then urges Otir Lord respecting his claim to the throne 
of David; he tells him that the kingdom of Judea, being at that 
time u province of Rome, cannot be got possession of without 
much personal exertion on his part, and presses him ro lose no 
time in beginning to reiijrn. Jesus refers him to the time allotted 
for this, as for ail other things ; and, after intimating somewhat 
respecting his own previous sufferings, asks Satan wliy he should 
be solicitous for the exuhation of one, whose rising was destined 
to be his fall. Satan replie^^, tiiat his own desperate slate, by ex- 
chuling all hope, leaves little room for fear; and that, as his owii 
punishment was equally doomgd, he is not interested in pre\enr- 
ing the reign of one, for whose apparent benevolence he might 
rather hope for some interference in his favour., Satan still 
pursues his former incitements; and, supposing that the seeming 
reluctance ot Jesus to be thus advanced might arise from his 
being unacquainted with the world and its glories, conveys him 
to the summit of a high mountain, and from thence shews him 
most of the kingdom of Asia, particularly pointing out to his 
notice some extraordinary military preparations of the Farthians 
to resist the incursions of the Scythians. He then informs our 
Lord, that he shewed him this purposely that he mig;ht see ho\v 
necessary military exertions are to retain the possession of king- 
doms, as well as to subdue them at first, and advises him to 
consider how impossible it was lo maintain Judea agains, two 
such powerful neighbours as the Romans and Parthians, and how 
necessary it wouid be to forui an alliance with one or other of 
them. At the same time he recdm mends, and engages to secure 
to him, that of the Parthians; and tells him, thatby this means 
his power will be defended from any thing that Rome or Ca-sar 
might attempt against it, and that he will be able to extend his 
glory wide, and especially to accomplish what was particularly 
necessary to make the throne of Judea really the throne of 
David, the deliverance and restoration of the ten tribes, still in 
a state of captivity. Jesus, having briefly noticed the vanity of 
military efforts, and the weakness of the arm of flesh, says, tiiat 
when the time comes for his ascending his allotted th.rone, he 
shall not be slack: he remarks on Satan's extraordinary zeal for 
the deliverance of the Israelites, to whom he had always shewn 
himself an enemy, and declares their servitude to be the conse- 
quence of their" idolatry; but adds, that at a future time it may 
perhaps please God to recall them, and restore them to their 
liberty and native land. 

So spake the Son of God, and Satan stood 
A. while as mute confounded what to say. 



BOOK 111. 327 

What to reply, confuted and convinced 

Of his weak arg-uing-, and fallacious drift ; 

At length collecting- all his serpent wiles, 5 

With soothing words renew'd, him thus accosts : 

I see thou know'st what is of use to know. 
What best to say can say, to do canst do ; - 
Thy actions to thy words accord, thy words 
To thy large heart give utterance due, thy heart W 
Contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape. 
Should kings and nations from thy mouth consult. 
Thy counsel would be as the oracle 
Urim and Thummim, those oraculous gems 
On Aaron's breast ; or tongue of seers old 1.*" 

Infallible ; or wert thou sought to deeds 
That might require th' ai-ray of war, thy skill 
Of conduct would be such, that all the world 
Could not sustain thy pi-owess, or subsist 
In battle, though against thy few in arms. 20 

These godlike virtues wherefore dost thou hide, 
Affecting private life or more obscure 
In savage wilderness '? wherefore deprive 
All earth ker wonder at thy acts, thyself 
The fame and glory, glory the reward 25 

That sole excites to high attempts, the flame 
Of most erected spirits, most temper 'd pure 
Ethereal, who all pleasures else despise, 
All treasures and all gain esteem as dross. 
And dignities and powers all but the highest 1 30 

Thy years are ripe, ar»d over-ripe ; the son 
Of Macedonian Philip had ere these 
Won Asia, and the throne of Cyrus held 
At his dispose ; young Scipio had brought down 
The Carthaginian pride; young Porapey quell d 35 
The Pontic king, and in triumph had rode. 
Yet years, and to ripe years judgment mature, 
Quench not the thirst of glory, but augment. 
Great Julius, whom now all the Avorld admires, 

11. Shape, idea, in its most perfect sense. 
13. What the Urim and Tbianmim were is not known: It is 
supposed, as the words signify lig-ht and perfection, that the pro- 
phetic virtue Inherent jnl;he sacred breast-plate, or in the gems 
which composed it, is to be understood by them. 
31. See Luke iii. 23. 
36. The Pontic king, Mimridates, against whom Pompey wad 
■ent, but he was then it is believed turned of forty. 

C 



328 PARADISE REGAINED. 

The more he grew in years, the more inflamed 40 
With glory, wept that he had lived so long 
Inglorious : but thou yet art not too late. 

To whom our Saviour calmly thus reply'd : 
Thou neither dost persuade me to seek wealth 
For empire's sake, nor empire to affect 45 

For glory's sake, by all thy argument. 
For what is glory but the blaze of fame, 
The people's praise, if always praise unmix'd? 
And what the people but a herd confused, 
A miscellaneous rabble, who extol 50 

Things vulgar, and, well weigh'd, scarce worth the 

praise ? 
They praise and they admire they know not what, 
And know not whom, but ay one leads the other; 
And what delig-ht to be by such extoll'd, 
To live upon their tongues and be their talk, 55 

Of whom to be dispraised were no small praise ? 
His lot who dares be sing-ularly good. 
Th' intelligent among- them and the wise 
Are few, and glory scarce of few is raised. 
This is true glory and renown, when God 60 

Looking on th' earth, with approbation marks 
The just man, and divulges him through Heav'n 
To all his angels, who with true applause 
Recount his praises ; thus he did to Job, 
When to extend his fame through Heav'n and Earth, 
As thou to thy reproach may'st well remember, 66 
He ask'd thee. Hast thou seen my servant Job? 
Famous he was in Heav'n, on Earth less known; 
Where glory is false glory attributed 
To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame. 70 
They err who count it glorious to subdue 
By conquest far and wide, to over-run 
Large countries, and in fields gTeat battles win. 
Great cities by assault : what do these worthies. 
But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and inslave 75 
Peaceable nations, neighb'ring, or remote. 
Made captive, yet deserving freedom more 
Than those their conquerors, who leave behind 

41. Julius Caesar, it is said, wept on reading the li'"e of Alex- 
ander, that he had done so little at his ag-e.— Alexander died wheti 
be was about 34 years old. 67. Job i. 8. 



BOOK 111 3211 

Nothing- but ruin wheresoe'er they rove. 
And all the flourishing' works of peace destroy ; 80 
Then swell with pride, and must be titled Gods, 
Great benefactors of mankind, deliverers, 
Worsliipp'd with temple, priest, and sacrifice ? 
One is the son of Jove, of Mars the other: 
Till conqu'ror Death discover them scarce men, 85 
Rolling- in brutish vices, and deform'd. 
Violent or shameful death their due reward. 
But if there be in glory aught of good. 
It may by means far different be attain'd 
Without ambition, war, or violence ; 90 

By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent, 
By patience, temperance : I mention still 
Him, whom thy wrongs with saintly patience boriue 
Made famous in a land and times obscure ; 
Who names not now with honour patient Job? 95 
Poor Socrates (who next more memorable ?) 
By what he taught and sufFer'd for so doing-. 
For truth's sake suffering- death unjust, lives now 
Equal in fame to proudest conqueroi's. 
Yet if for fame and glory aught be done, 100 

Aught suffer'd ; if young- African for fame 
His wasted country freed from Punic rage. 
The deed becomes unpraised, the ivian at least, 
And loses, though but verbal, his reward. 
Shall I seek glory then, as vain men seek, 105 

Oft not deserved ? I seek not mine, but His 
Who sent me, and thereby witness whence I am. 
To whom the Tempter murmuring thus reply'd: 
Think not so slight of glory ; therein least 
Resembling- thy great Father ; he seeks glory, 110 
And for his glory all things made, all things 
Orders and governs ; nor content in Heav'n 
By all his angels glorify'd, requires 
Glory from men, from all men, good or bad, 
Wise or unwise, no difference, no exemption; 115 
Above all sacrifice, or hallow'd gift, 
Glory he requires, and glory he receives 
Promiscuous from all nations, Jew or Greek, 

101* Young African, Scipio Africanus, who freed Rome froin 

tbe tlireatened invasion of the Carthaginians. 

106. John nil. 49, 50. 



330 PARADISE REGAINED 

Or barbarous, nor exemption hath declared : 

From us his foes pronounced glory he exacts. 120 

To whom our Saviour fervently reply'd : 
And reason ; since his word all things produced, 
Though chiefly not for glory as prime end, 
But to shew forth his goodness, and impart 
His good communicable to .every soul 125 

Freely ; of whom what could he less expect 
Than glory and benediction, that is thanks, 
The slig-htest, easiest, readiest recompense 
From them who could return him nothing else. 
And not returning that would likeliest render 130 
Contempt instead, dishonour, obloquy? 
Hard recompense, unsuitable return 
For so much good, so much beneficence. 
But why should man seek glory, who of his own 
Hath nothing, and to whom nothing belongs 135 

But condemnation, ignominy, and shame'? 
Who for so many benefits received 
Turn'd recreant to God, ingrate, and false. 
And so of all true good himself despoil'd ; 
Yet, sacrilegious, to himself would take 140 

That which to God alone of right belongs ; 
Yet so much bounty is in God, such grace. 
That who advance his glory, not their own, 
Them he himself to glory will advance. 

So spake the Son of God ; and here again 145 

Satan had not to answer, but stood struck 
With guilt of his own sin, for he himself 
Insatiable of glory had lost all ; 
Yet of another plea bethought him soon : 

Of glory, as thou wilt, said he, so deem, 150 

Worth or not worth the seeking, let it pass : 
But to a kingdom thou art born, ordain'd 
To sit upon thy father David's throne ; 
By mother's side thy father; though thy right 
Be now in powerful hands, that will not part 155 
Easily from possession won with arms : 
Judsea now and all the Promised Land, 
Reduced a province under Roman yoke, 

158. Judaea was reduced from beinef an independent king-dom 
to a Roman province in the reign of Augustus, and when ouf 
Saviour was about twelve years ol3. 



BOOK III. 331 

Obeys Tiberius ; nor is always ruled 

With temperate sway ; oft have they violated 100 

The temple, oft the law, witli foul affronts. 

Abominations rather, as did once 

Antiochus : and think'st thou to regain 

Thy right by sitting still or thus retiring 1 

So did not Maccabeus : he indeed 105 

Retired unto the desert, bat with arms ; 

And o'er a mighty king so oft prevail'd. 

That by strong hand his family obtain'd, 

Tho' priests, the crown, and David's throne usurp'd 

With Modin and her suburbs once content. 170 

If kingdom move thee not, let move thee zeal 

And duty ; zeal and duty are not slow ; 

But on occasion's forelock watchful wait ; 

They themselves rather are occasion best. 

Zeal of thy father's house, duty to free 175 

Thy country from her Heathen servitude ; 

So shalt thou best fulfil, best verify 

The prophets old, who sung thy endless reign ; 

The happier reign the sooner it begins ; 

Reign then ; what canst thou better do the while ? 

To whom our Saviour answer thus return'd : 181 
All things are best fulfill'd in theij* due time, 
And time there is for all things, truth hath said : 
Jf of my reign prophetic writ hath told 
That it shall never end, so when begin 185 

The Father in his purpose hath decreed, 
He in whose hand all times and seasons roll. 
What if he hath decreed that 1 shall first 
Be tried in humble state, and things adverse. 
By tribulations, injuries, insults, 100 

Contempts, and scorns, and snares, and violence, 
Suffering, abstaining, quietly expecting. 
Without distrust or doubt, that he ntay know 
What I can suffer, how obey 1 who best 
Can suffer, best can do ; best reign, who first 105 
Well hath obey d ; just trial, ere I merit 
My exaltation without change or end. 
But what concerns it thee when I begin 
My everlasting kingdom, why art thou 
Solicitous, what moves thy inquisition? 200 

I60t Pompey profaned the Holv of Holies; for Antiochus, 
see 2 Maccab. y. 183. Ecclcs, iii. 



332 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Know'st thou not that my rising is thy fall, 
And my promotion will be thy destruction ? 

To whom the Tempter inly rack'd reply'd : 
Let that come when it comes ; all hope is lost 
Of my reception into grace ; what worse 1 205 

For where no hope is left, is left no fear : 
If there be worse, the expectation more 
Of worse torments me than the feeling can. 
I would be at the worst ; worst is my port, 
My harbour, and my ultimate repose, 210 

The end I would attain, my final good. 
My error was my error, and my crime 
My crime ; whatever for itself condemn'd 
And will alike be punish'd, whether thou 
Reign or reign not ; though to tbat gentle brow 215 
Willingly I could fly, and hope thy reign. 
From that placid aspect and meek regard, 
Rather than aggravate my evil state, 
Would stand between me and thy Father's ire 
(Whose ire I dread more than the fii'e of Hell) 220 
A shelter, and a kind of shading cool 
Interposition, as a summer's cloud. 
If I then to the worst that can be haste, 
Why move thy feet so slow to what is best. 
Happiest both to thyself and all the world, 225 

That thou who worthiest art should'st be their king? 
Perhaps thou linger'st in deep thoughts detain'd 
Of th' enterprise so hazardous and high ! 
No wonder, for though in thee be united 
What of perfection can in man be found, 230 

Or human nature can receive, consider 
Thy life hath yet been private, most part spent 
At home, scar.ce vicw'd the Galilean towns. 
And once a year Jerusalem, few days' 234 

Short sojourn ; and what thence couldst thou observe ? 
The world thou hast not seen, much less her glory. 
Empires, and monarchs, and their radiant courts, 
Best school of best experience, quickest insight 
In all things that to greatest actions lead. 
The wisest, unexperienced, will be ever ^40 

Timorous and loath, with novice modesty 
(As he who seeking asses found a kingdom) 
Irresolute, unhardy, unadventurous : 
206. See Par. Lost, iv. 108. 234. Lnke ii. 41. 242. 1 Sara. ix. 



BOOK III. 333 

But I will bring thee where thou soon shalt quit 

Those rudiments, and see befi>re thine eyes 245 

The monarchies of th' earth, their pomp and state; 

Sufficient introduction to inform 

Thee, of thyself so apt, in regal arts. 

And regal mysteries, that thou niay'st know 

How best their opposition to withstand. 250 

With that (such power was given him then) he took 
The Son of God up to a mountain high. 
It was a mountain at whose verdant feet 
A spacious plain, out-stretcL'd in circuit wide. 
Lay pleasant ; from his side two rivers flow'd, 255 
Th' one winding, th' other straight, and left between 
Fair champain with less rivers intervein'd. 
Then meeting, join 'd their tribute to the sea: 
Fertile of corn the glebe, of oil and wine ; 5^59 

With herds the pastures throng d, with flocks the hills ; 
Huge cities and high-tower'd, that well might seem 
The seats of mightiest monarchs, and so large 
The prospect was, that here and there was room 
For barren desert, fountainless and dry. 
To this high mountain top the Tempter brought 265 
Our Saviour, and new train of words began : 

Well have we speeded, and o'er hill and dale, 
Forest and field and flood, temples and towers, 
Cut shorter many a league ; here thou behold'st 
Assyria and her empire's ancient bounds, 270 

Araxes and the Caspian lake, thence on 
As far as Indus east, Euphrates west, 
And oft beyond ; to south the Persian bay. 
And inaccessible th' Arabian drought : 
Here Nineveh, of length within her wall 275 

Several days' journey, built by Ninus ola, 
Of that first golden monarchy the seat. 
And seat of Salmanassar, whose success 
Israel in long captivity still mouras ; 
There Babylon, the wonder of all tongues, 280 

As ancient, but rebuilt by him v/ho twice 
Judah and all thy father David's house 

275. Nineveh was built by Ninus, and was situated on the river 
Tigris. It is said to have been 15 miles long, 9 broad, and 48 in 
circumfeience. The walls round it were 100 feet high, and broad 
enongh for three chariots to drive abreast on them. 

280. Babylon was situated on the Euphrates. See Dan. iv. 30. 
5f Kings xxiv. and xxv. 



834 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Led captive, and Jerusalem laid waste. 

Till Cyrus set them free ; Persepolis 

His city there thou seest, and Bactra there ; XS^ 

Ecbatana her structure vast there shews 

And Hecatompylos her hundred gates ; 

There Susa by Choaspes, amber stream, 

The drink of none but king's ; of later fame 

Built by Emathian, or by Parthian hands, ^0 

The great Seleucia, Nisibis, and there 

Artaxata, Teredon, Ctesiphon, 

Turning- with easy eye thou may*st behold. 

All these the Parthian, now some ages past. 

By great Arsaces led, who founded first 295 

That empire, under his dominion holds. 

From the luxurious kings of Antioch won. 

And just in time thou com'st to have a view 

Of this great power ; for now the Parthian king 

In Ctesiphon hath gather 'd all his host 300 

Against the Scythian, whose incursions wild 

Have wasted Sogdiana ; to her aid 

He marches now in haste ; see, though from far. 

His thousands, in what martial equipage 

They issue forth, steel bows and shafts their arms. 

Of equal dread in flight, or in pursuit ; 306 

All horsemen, in which fight they most excel; 

See how in warlike muster they appear, 

In rhombs and wedges, and half-moons, and wings. 

He look'd, and saw what numbers numberless 310 
The city gates out-pour'd, light armed troops 
In. coats of mail and military pride ; 
In mail their horses clad, yet fleet and strong, 
Prancing their riders bore, the flower and choice 
Of many provinces from bound to bound ; -316 

From Arachosia, from Candaor east, 
And Margiana to the Hyrcanian cliffs 
Of Caucasus, and dark Iberian dales. 
From Atropatia and the neighbouring plains 
Of Adiabene, Media, and the south 320 

Of Susiana, to Balsara's haven. 

284. Persepolis and BactrOf cities of Persia — Ecbatana, the 
capital of Media. — Hecatompylos, of Parthia. 

300. Ctesiphon, wvis the winter residence of the Parthian kings, 
— Sogdiana was the province most exposed to the Scythians, and 
nearest their country. 

315. Arachosia, Sec. &c. provinces of Parthia. 



BOOK III. 335 

He saw them in their forms of battle ranged. 

How quick they wheel'd, and flying behind them-^shot 

Sharp sleet of arroM^y showers against the face 

Of their pursuers, and overcame by flight ; 325 

The field all iron cast a gleaming brown : 

Nor wanted clouds of foot, nor on each horn 

Cuirassiers ail in steel for standing fight. 

Chariots or elepbants indorsed with towers 

Of archers, nor of labouring pioneers 330 

A multitude,, with spades and axes arm'd 

To lay hills plain, fell woods, or valleys fill, 

Or where plain was, raise hill, or overlay 

With bridges rivers proud, as with a yoke ; 

Mules after these, camels and dromedaries, 335 

And waggons fraught with utensils of war. 

Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp. 

When Agrican with all his northern powers 

Besieged Albracca, as romances tell. 

The city of Gallaphrone, from whence to win 340 

The fairest of her sex, Angelica 

His daughter, sought by many pro west knights. 

Both Paynim, and the peers of Charlemain. 

Such and so numerous was their chivalry ; 

At sight whereof the Fiend yet more presumed, 345 

And to our Saviour thus his words renew'd : 

That thou may'st know I seek not to engage 
Thy virtue, and not every way secure 
On no slight grounds thy safety ; hear and mark 
To what end I have brought thee hither, and shewn 
All this fair sight: thy kingdom, though foretold 351 
By prophet or by angel, unless thou 
Endeavour, as thy father David did, 
I'hou never shalt obtain, prediction still 
In all things, and all men, supposes means ; 355 

Without means used, what it predicts revokes. 
But say thou wert possess'd of David's throne 
By free consent of all, none opposite, 
Samaritan or Jew ; how could'st thou hope 
Long to enjoy it quiet and secure, 360 

Between two such inclosing enemies, 

323. The known custom of the Parthians in their warfare. 

327. Clouds of foot ; an Homeric expression. 

3i-'9. Indorsed; from the Latin i?*, upon, and dorsz/m, the back^ 

•i38. An allusion to Boiardo's Orlando Inamorato, B. i. Can. 10. 

Z 



336 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Roman and Parthian ? therefore one of these 
Thou must make sure thy ovvmi, the Parthian first 
By my advice, as neai'er, and of late 
Found able by invasion to annoy 3€5 

Thy country, and captive lead away her kings 
Antigonus, and old Hyrcanus bound, 
Maugre the Roman : it shall be my task 
To render thee the Parthian at dispose : 
Choose which thou wilt by conquest or by league. 370 
By him thou shalt regain, without him not, 
That which alone can truly reinstall thee 
In David's royal seat, his true successor. 
Deliverance of thy brethren, those Ten Tribes 
Whose offspring in his teiTitory yet serve, 375 

In Habor, and among the Medes dispersed ; 
Ten sons of Jacob, two of Joseph lost 
Thus long from Israel, serving as of old 
Their fathers in the land of Egypt served, 
This offer sets before thee to deliver. 380 

These if from servitude thou shalt restore 
To their inheritance, then, nor till then. 
Thou on the throne of David in full glory, 
From Egypt to Euphrates, and beyond, 
Shalt reign, and Rome or Caesar need not fear. 385 

To whom our Saviour answer'd thus unmoved : 
Much ostentation vain of fleshly arm. 
And fragile arms, much instrument of war, 
Long in preparing-, soon to nothing brought. 
Before mine eyes thou hast set; and in my ear 390 
Vented much policy, and projects deep 
Of enemies, of aids, battles, and leagues, 
Plausible to the world, to me worth nought. 
Means I must use, thou say'st, prediction else 
Will unpredict and fail me of the throne : 395 

My time I told thee (and that time for thee 
Were better farthest off) is not yet come : 
When that comes, think not thou to find me slack 
On my pai't aught endeavouring, or to need 
Thy politic maxims, or that cumbersome 40n 

Luggage of war there shewn me, argument 
Ui human weakness rather than of strength. 

366. Hyrcanus was taken captive and carried to Seleuci.i, 

but Antigonus was made king of the Jews. 

.•^76. 2 King's xviii. 11. 3S6. John ii. 4, 



BOOK III. 



337 



My brethren, as thou call'st them, those Ten Tribes 

I must deliver, if I mean to reign 

David's true heir, and his full sceptre sway 405 

To just extent over all Israel's sons. 

But whence to thee this zeal, where was it then 

For Israel, or for David, or his throne. 

When thou stood'st up his tempter to the pride 

Of numbering' Israel, which cost the lives 410 

Of threescore and terPthousand Israelites 

By three days' pestilence? such was thy zeal 

To Israel then, the same that now to me ! 

As for those captive tribes, themselves were they 

Who wrought their own captivity, fell off 415 

From God to worship calves, the deities 

Of Eg-ypt, Baal next and Ashtaroth, 

And all th' idolatries of Heathens round, 

Besides their other worse than heathenish crimes; 

Nor in the land of their captivity 420 

Humbled themselves, or penitent besought 

The God of their forefathers ; but so died 

Impenitent, and left a race behind 

Like to themselves, distinguishable scarce 

From Gentiles, but by circumcision vain, 425 

And God with idols in their worship join'd. 

Should I of these the liberty regard, 

V^'ho, freed, as to their ancient patrimony, 

Unhumb^'^d, ur^epe^tant, unreform'd, 

h.eaalong would follow ; and to their gods perhaps 

Of Bethel and of Dan? no, let them serve 431 

Their enemies, who serve idols with God. 

Yet he at length, time to himself best kno^vn, 

Remembering Abraham, by some wondrous call 

May bring them back repentant and sincere, 435 

And at their passing cleave th* Assyrian flood. 

While to their native land with joy they haste ; 

As the Red Sea and Jordan once he cleft. 

When to the Promised Land their fathers pass'd ; 

To his due time and providence I leave them. 440 

So spake Israel's true King, and to the Fiend 
Made answer meet, that made void all his wiles. 
So fares it when with Truth Falsehood contends. 

409. 1 Chron. xxi. 1. 

414. See the history of the tribes in the book of Kings. 

436. See Rev. xvi. 13, 



.M> 



BOOK IV. 
THE ARGUMENT. 

Satan, persisting in the temptation of our Lord, shews him im- 
perial Rome in its greatest pomp and splendour, as a power 
which he probably would prefer before that of the Parthians; 
and tell? him that he mi'jht with the greatest ease expel Tiberius, 
restore tlie Romans to their liberty, and make himself master not 
only of the Roman empire, but, by so doing-, of the whole world, 
and inclusively of the throne of David. Our Lord, in reply, ex- 

firesses his contempt of grandeur and worldly power, notices the 
uxury, vanity, and proliisiacy, of the Romans, declaring how 
iiiUe they merited to be restored to that liberty which they had 
lost by their misconduct, and briefly refers to the greatness of his 
own future kingdom. Satan, now desperate, to enhance the value 
of his proffered gifts, professes that the only terms on which he 
will bestow them, are our Saviour's falling down and worshipping 
him. Our Lord expresses a firm but temperate indignation at 
such a proposition, and rebukes the tempter by the title of ' Satan 
for ever damn'd.' Satan, abashed, attempts to justify himse.f : he 
then assumes a new ground of temptation, and proposing to Jesus 
the intellectual gratifications of wisdom and knowledge, points out 
to him the celebrated seat of ancient learning, Athens, its schools, 
and other various resorts of learned teachers and their disciples ; 
accompanying the view with a highly-finished panegyric on the 
Grecian m'usicians, poets, orators, and philosophers of the different 
sects. Jesus replies, by shewing the vanity and insudiciency of 
the boasted heathen philosophy : and prefers to the music, poetry, 
eloquence, and didactic policy, of the Greeks, those of the in- 
spired Hebrew writers. Satan, irritated at the failure of all his 
attempljs, upbraids the indiscretion of our Saviour in rejecting his 
offers: 'and having, in ridicule of his expected kingdom, foretold 
the sufferings tliat our Lord was to undergo, carries him back 
Into the wilderness, and leaves him there. Night comes on: 
Satan raises a tremendous storm, and attempts farther to alarm 
Jesus with frightful dreams, and terrific threatening spectres; 
which however have no effect upon him. A calm, bright, beautiful 
morning succeeds to the horrors of the night. Satan again pre- 
sents himself to our blessed Lord, and, from noticing the storm 
of the preceding night as pointed chieriy at him, takes occasion 
once more to insult him with asi account of the suff<irings which 
he was certainly to undergo. This only draws from our Lord a 
brief rebuke. Satan, now at the height of his desperation, con- 
fesses that he had frequently watched Jesus from his birth, pur- 
posely to discover if he was the Messiah ; and, collecting from 
what passed at the river Jordan that he most probably was so, 
he had from that lime more assiduously followed him, in liapA 
of gaining some advantage over him, which would most effectu- 
ally prove that he was hot really that Divine Person destined to 
be his * fatal enemy„' In this he acknowledges that he has hitherto 
completely failed : but still determines to make one more trial 
of him. Accordingly he conveys him to the temple at Jerusalem, 
and, placing him on a pointed eminence, requires him to prove 
his divinity either by standing there, oi casting himself down with 
safety. Our Lord reproves the Tempter, and at the same time 
manifests his own divinity by standing on this dangerous point. 
Satan, amazed and terrified, instantly falls; and repairs to his 
(nferuul compeers to relate the bad success of his enterprise. 



BOOK IV. 339 

Angels in the mean time convey our blessed Lord to a beautifii 
vaiiey, ana, wniie they minister to hini a repast of celestial food^ 
celebrate his victory in a triumphant hymn. 

Perplex'd and troubled at his bad success 
The Tempter stood, nor had what to reply, 
Discover'd in his fraud, thrown from his hope 
So oft, and the persuasive rhetoric 
That sleek 'd his tongue, and won so much on Eve, 5 
So little here, nay lost ; but Eve was Eve, 
This far his over-match, who, self-deceived 
And rash, before-hand had no better weigh'd 
The strength he was to cope with, or his own: 
But as a man who had been matchless held 10 

In cunning, over-reach'd where least he thought. 
To salve his credit, and for every spite. 
Still will be tempting him who foils him still, 
And never cease, though to his shame the more ; 
Or as a swarm of flies in vintage time, 15 

About the wine-press where sweet must is pour'd. 
Beat off, returns as oft with humming sound ; 
Or surging waves against a solid rock. 
Though all to shivers dash'd, th' assault renew. 
Vain battery, and in froth or bubbles end ; 20 

So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse 
Met ever, and to shameful silence brought. 
Yet gives not o'er though desp'rate of success, 
And his vain importunity pursues. 
He brought our Saviour to the western side 25 

Of that high mountain, whence he might behold 
Another plain, long, but in breadth not wide, 
Wash'd by the southern sea, and on the north 
To equal length back'd with a ridge of hills, 
That screen'd t?ie fruits of th' earth and seats of nxen 
From <;old Septentrion blasts, thence in the midst 31 
Divided by a river, of whose banks 
On each .^de an imperial city stood. 
With towers and temples proudly elevate 
On seven small hills, with palaces adorn'd 35 

Porches and theatres, baths, aqueducts, 
Statues and trophies, and triumjjhal arcs. 
Gardens and groves presented to his eyes, 

15. Homer's II. xvi. 641. 

27. Another plain ; Italy, which is bounded by th e Mediterranean 

on the south, thp Alps o" the north, and intersected by the Tiber. 



S43 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Above the hig-hth of mountains intei'posed : 

By what strange parallax or optic skill 40 

Of vision multiply'd through air, or glass 

Of telescope, were curious to inquire : 

And now the Tempter thus his silence broke : 

The city which thou seest no other deem 
Than great and glorious Rome, queen of the earth 
So far renown'd, and with the spoils enrich'd 46 

Of nations ; there the capitol thou seest 
Above the rest lifting- his stately head 
On the Tarpeian rock, her citadel 
Impregnable ; and there Mount Palatine, 50 

Th' imperial palace, compass huge and hig'h 
The structure, skill of noblest architects. 
With gilded battlements, conspicuous far, 
TuiTets and terraces, and glitfring spires. 
Many a fair edifice besides, more like 55 

Houses of Gods, so well I have disposed 
My aery microscope, thou may'st behold 
Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs. 
Carved work, the hand of famed artificers 
In cedar, marble, ivory, or gold. CO 

Thence to the gates cast round thine eye, and see 
What conflux issuing forth, or entering in, 
Pretors, proconsuls to their provinces 
Hasting, or on return, in robes of state ; 
Lictors and rods, the ensigns of their power, 65 

Legions and cohorte, turms of horse and wings ; 
Or embassies from regions far remote 
In vaiious habits on the Appian road, 
Or on th' Emilian, some from farthest south, 
Syene, and where the shadow both way falls, 70 
Meroe, Nilotic isle, and, more to west, 
The realm of Bocchus to the Blackmoor sea ; 
From th' Asian kings, and Parthian among these. 
From India and the golden Chersonese, 
And utmost Indian isle, Taprobane, 75 

Dusk faces with white silken turbans wreath'd ; 
From Gallia, Gades, and the British west, 

66. Turms, from the Latin turma, a troop. 

66. T'he Appian road led towards the nc-th ; the Emtlian 

toward? the south. 

69. Farthest south Syene; that is, on the extreme southero 

limit of the Roman Empire. 



BOOK IV. 341 

Germans and Scythians, and Sarmatians northi 

Beyond Danubius to the Tauric pool. 

All nations now to Rome obedience pay, 80 

To Rome's ^reat Emperor, whose wide domain 

In ample territory, wealth and power. 

Civility of manners, arts, and arras, 

And long- renown, thou justly may'st prefer 

Before the Parthian ; these two thrones except, 85 

The rest are barb'rous, and scarce worth the sight. 

Shared among- petty kings too far removed ; 

These having- shewn thee, 1 have shewn thee all 

The kingdoms of the world, and all their glory. 

This emperor hath no son, and now is old, 90 

Old and lascivious, and from Rome retired 

To Capreae, an island small but strong- 

On the Campanian shore, with purpose there 

His horrid lusts in private to enjoy. 

Committing- to a wicked favourite 95 

All public cares, and yet of him suspicious 

Hated of all, and hating- ; with what ease. 

In iued with regal virtues as thou art. 

Appearing-, and beginning- noble deeds, 

Might'st thou expel this monster from his throne, 

Now made a stye, and in his place ascending 101 

A victor people free from servile yoke? 

And with my help thou may'st ; to me the power 

Is given, and by that right I give it thee. 

Aim therefore at no less than all the world, 105 

Aim at the highest, without the highest attain'd 

Will be for thee no sitting, or not long, 

On David's throne, be prophesy'd what will. 

To whom the Son of God unmoved reply 'd : 
Nor doth this grandeur and majestic show 110 

Of hixury, though call'd magnificence. 
More than of arms before, allure mine eye. 
Much less my mind ; though thou should'st add to tell 
Their sumptuous gluttonies, and gorgeous feasts. 
On citron tables or Atlantic stone, 115 

90. Such is tlie account vvliioh history has left of the Emperor 
TihtTius. On liis retirenu^.iit to tlie island Capreae, he committed 
the uovernnieiit to Srj:iiius, liis infiinioiis favourite. 

Ho. Cilrv7i wood was very mticii admired by the Romans, and 
tables made of it were a great article of luxury among them, as 
VJere albu cups made of crystal and myrrhine.^ 



S42 PARADISE REGAINED. 

(For I have also heard, perhaps have read) 

Their wines of Setia, Cales, and Fah^rne, 

Chios, and Crete, and how they quaff in gold. 

Crystal and myrrh ine cups imboss'd with gems 

And studs of pearl ; to me should'st tell who thirst 1 

And hunger still : then embassies thou shew'st 

From nations far and nigh ; what honour that, 

But tedious waste of time to sit and hear 

So many hollow compliments and lies, 

Outlandish flatteries'? then proceed'st to talk 125 

Of th' emperor, how easily subdued, 

How gloriously ; I shall, thou say'st, expel 

A brutish monster : what if I withal 

Expel a devil who first made him such ! 

Let his tormentor. Conscience, find him out ; 130 

For him I was not sent, nor yet to free 

That people, victor once, now vile and base, 

Deservedly made vassal, who once just, 

Frugal, and mild, and temperate, conquer'd well, 

But govern ill the nations under yoke, 135 

Peeling their provinces, exhausted all 

By lust and rapine ; first ambitious grown 

Of triumph, that insulting vanity ; 

Then cruel, by their sports to blood inured 

Of fighting beasts, and men to beasts exposed, 140 

Luxurious by their wealth, and greedier still, 

And from the daily scene effeminate. 

What wise and valiant man would seek to free 

These thus degenerate, by themselves enslaved, 

Or could of inward slaves make outward free 1 145 

Know therefore when my season comes to sit 

On David's throne, it shall be like a tree 

Spreading and overshadowing all the earth, 

Or as a stone that shall to pieces dash 

All monarchies besides thro'ighout the world, 150 

And of my kingdom there shall be no end : 

Means there shall be to this, but what the means 

Is not for thee to know nor me to tell. 

To whom the Tempter impudent reply'd : 
I see all offers made by me how slight 135 

Thou valuest, because offer'd, and reject'st : 

130. Tacitus Ann. Ti. 6. 
146. Matt. xiii. 32. and "Dan. iv. 11. Luke i. 83. 



BOOK IV. 343 

Nothing will please thee, diiSciilt aird nice^ 

Or nothing' more than still to contradict: 

On th' other side know also thou, that I 

On what I oifer set as high esteem, IGC 

lSi.iV what I part with mean to give for nought; 

All these which in a moment thou behold'st, 

The kingdoms of the world, to thee I give ; 

For, given to me, I give to whom I please ; 

No trifle ; yet with this reserve, not else, 165 

On this condition, if thou wilt fall down, 

And worship me as thy superior lord. 

Easily done, and hold them all of me ; 

For what can less so great a gift deserve 1 

Whom thus our Saviour answer'd with disdain : 
I never liked thy talk, thy offers less, 171 

Now both abhor, since thou hast dared to utter 
Th' abominable terms, impious condition ; 
But 1 endure the time, till which expired. 
Thou hast permission on me. It is written 175 

The first of all commandments. Thou shalt worship 
The Lord thy God, and only him shalt serve ; 
And dar'st thou to the Son of God propound 
To worship thee accursed, now more accursed 
For this attempt bolder than that on Eve, 180 

And more blasphemous I which expect to rue. 
The kingdoms of the world to thee were given. 
Permitted rather, and by thee usurp'd ; 
Other donation none thou canst produce : 
If given, by whom but by the King of kings, 185 
God over all supreme ? If given to thee, 
By thee how fairly is the giver now 
Repaid ? But gratitude in thee is lost 
Long since. Wert thou so void of fear or shame. 
As offer them to me the Son of God, 190 

To me my own, on such abhorred pact, 
That I fall down and worship thee as God ? 
Get thee behind me ; plain thou now appear'st 
That evil one, Satan for ever damn'd. 

To whom the Fiend with fear abash'd reply'd : 195 
Be not so sore offended, Son of God, 
Though sons of God both angels are and men, 

191. Pactf a word used to sig-nify the agreement made bv 
sorcerers with the devil. 7 



344 PARADISE REGAINED. 

If I, to try whether in hig-her sort 

Than these thou bear'st that title, have proposed 

What both from men and angels I receive, 200 

Tetrarchs of tire, air, iiood, and on the earth 

Nations beside from all the quarter'd winds, 

God of this world in\oked and world beneath; 

Who then thou art, whose coming is foretold 

To me so fatal, me it most concerns. 205 

The trial hath indamaged thee no way, 

Rather more honour left and more esteem ; 

Me nought advantaged, missing what I aim'd. 

Therefore let pass, as they are transitory. 

The kingdoms of this world ; 1 shall no more 210 

Advise thee ; gain them as thou canst, or not. 

And thou thyself seemi'st otherwise inclined 

Than to a worldly crown, addicted more 

To contemplation and profound dispute ; 

As by that early action may be judged, 215 

When slipping from thy mother's eye thou went'st 

Alone into the temple ; there wast found 

AmoTig the gravest Rabbies disjjutant 

On points and questions fitting Moses* chair. 

Teaching, not taught fi^the childhood shews the 

man. 
As morning shews the day> Be famous then 221 
By wisdom ; as thy empire must extend, 
So let extend thy mind o'er all the world 
In knowledge, all things in it comprehend: 
All knowledge is not couch 'd in Moses' law, 225 

The Pentateuch, or what the Prophets wrote; 
The Gentiles also know, and write, and teach 
To admiration, led by Nature's light; 
And with the Gentiles much thou must converse, 
Ruling them by persuasion as thou mean'st; 230 

Without their learning how wilt thou with them. 
Or they with thee, hold conversation meet? 
How wilt thou reason witVi them, how refute 
Their idolisms, traditions, paradoxes ? 
Error by his own arms is best evinced. 233 

Look once more ere we leave this specular mount 
Westward, much nearer by south-west, behold 

Matt. xxiJi. 2. as 6. Par. Lost, xil, 588. 



BOOK IV. 345 

t Where on the JEgaan shore a city stands 
NBuilt nobly, pure the air, and light the soil, 
Athens the eye of Greece, mother of arts 240 

And eloquence, native to famous wits 
Or hospitable, in her sweet recess. 
City or suburban, studious walks and shades ; 
See there the olive grove of Academe, 
Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird 245 

Trills her thick- warbled notes the summer long ; 
There flow'ry hill Hymettus, with the sound 
Of bees' industrious murmur, oft invites 
To studious musing' ; there Ilissus rolls 
His whisp'ring- stream : within the walls then view 
The schools of ancient sages ; his who bred 251 

Great Alexander to subdue the world, 
Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next : 
There shalt thou hear and learn the secret power 
Of harmony in tones and numbers hit 255 

By voice or hand, and various-measured verse, 
iEolian charms and Dorian lyric odes. 
And his who gave them breath, but higher sung, 
Blind Melesigenes thence Homer call'd. 
Whose poem Phoebus challenged for his own! 260 
Thence what the lofty grave tragedians taugh* 
In Chorus or Iambic, teachers best 
Of moral prudence, with delight received 
In brief sententious precepts, while they treat 
Of Fate, and Chance, and change in human life ; 205 
High actions and high passions best describing : 
Thence to the famous orators repair. 
Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence 
Wielded at will that fierce democratie. 
Shook th' arsenal and fulmined over Greece, 2T0 
To Macedon and Artaxerxes' throne : 
To sage Philosophy next lend thine ear. 
From Heav'n descended to the low roof d house 
Of Socrates ; see there his tenement. 
Whom well inspired the oracle pronounced 275 

238. The following passage has been justly pointed out as one 
of the most beautiful in the poem. It is'pure, clear, and distinct; 
like a prospect seen through a Grecian atmosphere. 

253. The Lyceum was the school of Aristotle, as the Academy 
was that of Plato ; and the Stoa, which was adorned with manv 
paintings, was the school of Zeno. 
Q2 



346 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Wisest of men ; from whose mouth issued foi*tli 
Mellifluous streams that water'd all the schools 
Of Academics old and new, with those 
Sii'named Peripatetics, and the sect 
P'ipicurean, and the Stoic severe ; 2.SC 

These here revolve, or, as thou lik'st, at home, 
Till time mature thee to a kin^idom's weight; 
These rules will render thee a king complete 
Within thyself, much more with empire join'd.) 

To whom our Saviour sagely thus reply'd : '^ 28i 
Think not but that i know these things, or think 
I know them not ; not therefore am I short 
Of knowing what I ought: he who receives 
Light from above, from the Fountain of Light, 
No other doctrine needs, though granted true ; 290 
But these are false, or little else but dreams, 
Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm. 
The first and wisest of them all profess'd 
To know this only, that he nothing knew ; 
The next to fabling fell and smooth conceits ; 295 
A third sort doubted all things, though plain sense ; 
Others in virtue placed felicity. 
But virtue join'd with riches and long life; 
In corporal pleasure he, and careless ease ; 
The Stoic last in philosophic pride, 300 

By him call'd Virtue; and his virtuous man, 
Wise, perfect in himself, and all possessing. 
Equal to Cod, oft shames not to prefer, 
As fearing God nor man, contemning all 304 

Wealth, pleasure, pain or torment, death and life, 
Which, when he lists, he leaves, or boasts he can; 
For all his tedious talk is but vain boast, 
Or subtle shifts conviction to evade. 
Alas, what can they teach, and not mislead. 
Ignorant of themselves, of God much more, 310 

And how the world began, and how man fell 
Degraded by himself, on grace depending'? 
Much of the soul they talk, but all awry. 
And in themselves seek virtue, and to themselves 

293. The first ; Socrates, who declared he could know nothlog 
bi t liirmelf.— 7'Ae next. ,• Plato, whose niysUcisiii and allesrories 
are here alluded to. — The third ; the scholars jf Pyrrho, whose 
philosophy was alto^-eiher sceptical. The others who are men- 
tioned ere the Academics and the F4»icureans. 



BOOK IV. 3^17 

All glory arrogate, to God give none, 316 

Rather accuse him under usual names. 

Fortune and Fate, as one regardless quite 

Of mortal thing^s. Who therefore seeks in these 

True wisdom, finds her not, or by delusion 

Far worse, her false resemblance only meets, 320 

An empty cloud. However, many books, 

Wise men have sail, are wearisome ; who reads 

Incessantly, and to his reading- brings not 

A spirit and judgment equal or superior 

(And what he brings, what needs he elsewhere seek?) 

Uncertain and unsettled still remains, 

Deep versed in books and shallow in himself. 

Crude or intoxicate, collecting toys, 

And trifies for choice matters, worth a spunge ; 

As children gathering pebbles on the shore. 330 

Or if I would delight my private hours 

With music or with poems, where so soon 

As in our native language can I find 

That solace f all our law and story strew'd 

With hymns, our psalms with artful terms inscribed, 

Our Hebrew songs and harps in Babylon, 336 

That pleased so well our victors' ear, declare 

That rather Greece from us these arts derived ; 

111 imitated, while they loudest sing 

Tne vices of their deities, and their own, 340 

In fable, hymn, or song, so personating 

Their gods ridiculous, and themselves past shame : 

Remove their swelling epithets, thick laid 

As varnish on a harlot's cheek, the rest, 

Thin sown with aught of profit or delight, 345 

Will far be found unworth3' to compare 

With Sion's songs, to all true taste excelling, 

Where God is praised aright, and godlike men. 

The holiest of holies, and his saints ; 

Such are from God inspired, not such from thee, 350 

Unless where moral virtue is express'd 

By light of Nature, not in all quite lost. 

Their orators thou then extoll'st, as those 

The top of eloquence, statists indeed. 

And lovers of their country, as may seem ; 3^5 

But herein to our Propbets far beneath 

322. Eccles. xji. 12. 336. Ps. CKXXVII. 



318 PARADISE REGAINED. 

As men divinely taug-ht, and better teachlog 

The solid rules of civil g'overnment 

In their majestic unaflfected style 

Than all the oratory of Greece and Rome. 8S0 

In them is plainest taught, and easiest learnt. 

What makes a nation happy, and keeps it so, 

What ruins kingdoms, and lays cities flat; 

These only with our law best form a king*. 

So spake the Son of God ; but Satan now 365 

Quite at a loss, for all his darts were spent. 
Thus to our Saviour with stern brow replied: 

Since neither wealth, nor honour, arms nor arts, 
King'dom nor empire pleases thee, nor aught 
By me proposed in life contemplative, 370 

Or active, tended on by glory, or by fame. 
What dost thou in this world ? the wilderness 
For thee is fittest place ; I found thee there, 
And thither will return thee ; yet remember 
What I foretell thee, soon thou shalt have cause 375 
To wish thou never hadst rejected thus 
Nicely or cautiously my ofFer'd aid. 
Which would have set thee in short time with ease 
On David's throne, or throne of all the world, 
Now at full age, fulness of time, thy season, 380 

When prophecies of thee are best fulfill'd. 
Nov- contrary, if I read aught in Heav'n, 
Or Heav'n write aught of Fate, by what the stars 
Voluminous, or single characters. 
In their conjunction met, give me to spell, 385 

Sorrows, and labours, opposition, hate ' 

Attend thee, scorns, reproaches, injuries. 
Violence and stripes, and lastly cruel death ; 
A kingdom they portend thee, but what kingdom. 
Real or allegoric I discern not; 390 

Nor when, eternal sure, as without end. 
Without beginning ; for no date prefix'd 
Directs me in the stan-y rubric set. 

So saying he took (for still he knew his poweY 
Not yet expired) and to the wilderness 385 

S82. The astrolog'er Cardan, with a mixture of madness and 
Inoiety, pretended to cast the nativity of Christ, and to discover 
what must have been his lot from the situation of the planets at 
hi« birth. 



BOOK IV. 3-19 

Brought back the Son of God, and left him there. 
Feigning' to disappear. Darkness now rose. 
As day-light sunk, and brought in louring- Night, 
Her shadowy offspring, unsubstantial both. 
Privation mere of light and absent day. 400 

Our Saviour meek and wi.h untroubled mind 
After his aery jaunt, though hurried sore. 
Hungry and cold, betook him to his rest. 
Wherever, under some concourse of shades, [shield 
Whose branching arms thick intertwined might 
From dews and damps of night his shelter'd head. 
But shelter'd, slept in vain, for at his head 
The Tempter watch'd, and soon with ugly dreams 
Disturb'd his sleep ; and either tropic now 
'Gan thunder, and both ends of Heaven, the clouds 
From many a horrid rift abortive pour'd 411 

Fierce rain with lightning mix'd, water with fire 
In ruin reconciled : nor slept the winds 
Within their stony caves, but rush'd abroad 
From the four hinges of the avo; Id, and fell 415 

On the vex'd wilderness, whose tallest pines. 
Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest oaks 
Bow'd their stiff necks, loaded v/ith stormy blasts ; 
Or torn up sheer : ill wast thou shrouded then, 
O patient Son of God, yet only stood'st 420 

Unshaken! Nor yet stay'd the terror there. 
Infernal ghosts, and hellish furies, round [shriek'd, 
Environ'd thee, some howl'd, some yell'd, some 
Some bent at thee their fiery darts, while thou 
Satst unappall'd in calm and sinless peace. 425 

Thus pass'd the night so foul, till morning- fair 
Came forth with pilgrim steps in amioe grey. 
Who with her radiant finger still'd the roar 
Of thunder, chased the clouds, and laid the winds, 
■ And grisly spectres, which the Fiend had raised 430 
To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire. 
And now the sun with more effectual beams 
Had cheer'd the face of earth, and dried the wet 
From drooping plant, or dropping tree ; the birds. 
Who all things now behold more fresh and green, 435 
After a night of storm so ruinovis, 

415. Hinges; a trarvslation of the Latin Cardo, from which we 
derive the word cardinal, and hence cardinal points. 



.■^^x 



350 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Clear'd up their choicest notes in bush and spray 

To gratulate the sweet return of morn ; 

Nor yet amidst this joy and brightest morn 

Was absent, after all his mischief done, 440 

The Prince of Darkness ; glad would also seem 

Of this fair change, and to our Saviour came. 

Yet with no new device, they all were spent. 

Rather by this his last affront resolved, 

Desp'rate of better course, to vent his rage, 445 

And mad despite, to be so oft repell'd. 

Him walking on a sunny hill he found, 

Back'd on the north and west by a thick wood; 

Out of the wood he starts in wonted shape, 

And in a careless mood thus to him said : 450 

Fair morning yet betides thee, Son of God, 
After a dismal night ; I heard the wrack 
As earth and sky would mingle ; but myself 
Was distant ; and these flaws, tho' mortals fear them 
As dangerous to the pillar'd frame of Heav'n, 455 
Or to the Earth's dark basis underneath. 
Are to the main as inconsiderable 
And harmless, if not wholesorae, as a sneeze 
To man's less universe, and soon are gone ; 
Yet as being oft times noxious where they light 460 
On man, beast, plant, wasteful and tTirbulent, 
Like turbulencies in th' aflfairs of men. 
Over whose heads they roar, and seem to point. 
They oft fore-signify and threaten ill : 
This tempest at this desert most was bent ; 465 

Of men at thee, for only thou here dwell'st. 
Did I not tell thee, if thou didst reject 
The perfect season offer'd with my aid 
To win thy destined seat, but wilt prolong 
All to the push of Fate, pursue thy way 470 

Of gaining David's throne no man knows when. 
For both the when and how is no where told? 
Thou shalt be what thou art ordain'd, no doubt; 
For angels have proclaim'd it, but concealing 
The time and means : each act is rightliest done, 475 
Not when it must, but'when it may be best. 
If thou observe not this, be sure to find 
What I foretold thee, many a hard assay 
Of dangers, and adversities, and pains. 



BOOK IV. S53 

Ere thou of Israel's sceptre get fast hold ; 4F0 

Whereof this ominous night that closed thee i"ound. 
So many terrors, voices, prodigies, 
May warn thee, as a sure fore-going sign. 

So talk'd he, while the Son of God went on 
And stay'd not, but in brief him answer'd thus : 485 

Me worse than v/et thou find'st not ; other harm 
Those terrors which thou speak'st of did me none ; 
1 never fear'd they could, though noising loud 
And threat'ning nigh ; what they can do as signs 
Betokening ji ill boding, I contemn 490 

As false portents, not sent from God, but thee ; 
Who knowing I shall reign past thy preventing, 
Obtrud'st thy oiTer'd aid, that I accepting 
At least might seem to hold all power of thee, 
Ambitious Spirit, and wouldst be thought my God, 495 
And storm 'st refused, thinking to teri'ify 
Me to thy will; desist, thou art discern'd. 
And toil'st in vain, nor me in vain molest. 

To whom the Fiend now swoln with rage replied : 
Then hear, O Son of David, Virgin-born ; 500 

For Son of God to me is yet in doubt : 
Of the Messiah, I had heard foretold 
By all the prophets ; of thy birth at length 
Announced by Gabriel with the first 1 knew, 
And of th' angelic song in Bethlehem field 505 

On thy birth-night, that sung thee Saviour born. 
From that time seldom have I ceased to eye 
Thy infancy, thy childhood, and thy youth. 
Thy manhood last, though yet in private bred ; 
Till at the ford of Jordan, whither all 510 

Flock to the Baptist, I among the rest. 
Though not to be baptized, by voice from Heav'n 
Heard thee pronounced the Son of God beloved. 
Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view 
And narrower scrutiny, that I might learn 515 

In what degree or meaning thou art call'd 
The Son of God, which bears no single sense ; 

601. I have before observed that there does not seem sufficient 
reason for supposing' Christ's nature and character unknown to 
Satan. Milton, by layinj^ so much stress as he lias done on this 
idea, rendered it necessary for liim to pursue an argument, wliich 
contributes nothing ejilier to the interest or tlie sublimity of the 
sulyect. 

2A 



852 PARADISE REGAINED. 

The Son of God, I also am, or was, 

And if I was, I am ; relation stands ; 

All men are sons of God ; yet thee I thought 5*20 

In some respect far higher so declared. 

Therefore I watch'd thy footsteps fi-om that hour, 

And follow'd thee still on to this waste wild; 

Where by all best conjectures I collect 

Thou art to be my fatal enemy. 525 

Good reason then, if 1 before-hand seek 

To understand my adversary, who 

And what he is ; his wisdom, power, intent; 

By parle or composition, truce or leagTie, 

To win him, or win from him what I can. 530 

And opportunity I here have had 

To try thee, sift thee, and confess have found thee 

Proof against all temptation, as a rock 

Of adamant, and, as a centre, firm ; 

To th' utmost of mere man both wise and good, 635 

Not more ; for honours, riches, kingdoms, glory 

Have been before contenni'd, and may again : 

Therefore to know wiiat -^nore thou art than man. 

Worth naming Son of God by voice from Heav'n, . 

Another method I must now begin. .540 

So saying he caught him up, and without wing 
Of hippogrif bore through the air sublime 
Over the wilderness and o'er the plain ; 
Till underneath them fair Jerusalem, 
The holy city, lifted high her towers, 040 

And higher yet the glorious temple rear'd 
Her pile, far off appearing like a mount 
Of alabaster, topp'd with golden spires : 
There on the highest pinnacle he set 
The Sou of God, and added thus in scorn : 550 

There stand, if thou wilt stand ; to stand upright 
Will ask thee skill. I to thy Father's house 
Have brought thee, and highest placed, highe st is Vest: 
Now shew thy progeny ; if not to stand. 
Cast thyself down ; safely, if Son of God : 555 

For it is written. He will give command 
Concerning thee to his angels, in their hands 
They shall uplift thee, lest at any time 
Thou chance to dash thy foot against a stone. 

To whom thus Jesus : Also it is written, 5C0 



D-OOK IV. 35:^ 

Tempt not the Lord thy God. He said and stood ; 

But Satan smitten with amazement fell : 

As when Earth's son Antaeus (to compare 

Small things with greatest; in Irassa strove 

With Jove's Aicides, and oft foil'd still rose, 265 

Receiving- from his mother Earth new strength, 

Fresh from his fall, and fiercer grapple join'd, 

Throttled at length in th' air, expired and fell ; 

»So after many a foil the Tempter proud, 

Renewing fresh assaults, amidst his pride 570 

Fell whence he stood to see his victor fall 

And as that Theban monster that proposed 

Her riddle, and him who solved it not devour'd. 

That once found out and solved, for grief and spite 

Cast herself headlong from th' Ismenian steep ; 755 

So struck with dread and anguish fell the Fiend, 

And to his crew, that sat consulting, brought 

Joyless triumphals of his hoped success. 

Ruin, and desperation, and dismay. 

Who durst so proudly tempt the Son of God. 580 

So Satan fell ; and straight a fiery globe 

Of angels on full sail of wing flew nigh, 

Who on their plumy vans received him soft 

From his uneasy station, and up bore 

As on a floating couch through the blithe air; 585 

Then in a fiow'ry valley set him down 

On a green bank, and set before him spread 

A table of celestial food, divine. 

Ambrosial fruits fetch'd from the tree of life. 

And from the fount of life ambrosial drink, 590 

That soon refresh'd him wearied, and repair'd 

What hunger, if aught hunger had impair'd, 

Or thirst: and, as he fed, angelic quires 

Sung heav'nly anthems of his victory 

Over temptation, and the Tempter proud : 595 

True image of the Father, whether throned 
In the bosom of bliss, and light of li^ht 
Conceiving, or remote from Heav'n inshriaed 

651. This is the j»Tand catastrophe of the poem; the discovery 
of Christ's divinity and the discomfiture of Satan. 

563. The ginnt Antaeus dwelt in Irassa, a place in Libya, and 
vas killed by Hercules in wrest'.in*. 

572. The Sphinx wUa threw herself into the sea when CEdipua 
solved her enigma 581. Matt.- iv, U. 



S54 PARADISE REGAINED. 

In fleshly tabernacle, and human form, 

Wand'ring- the wilderness, v/hatever place, 601) 

Habit, or state, or motion still expressing 

The Son of God, with God-like force endued 

Against th' attempter of thy Father's throne. 

And thief of Paradise ; him long of old 

Thou didst debel, and down from Heaven cast 605 

With all his army, now thou hast avenged 

Supplanted Adam, and by vanquishing 

Temptation, hast regain'd lost Paradise, 

And frustrated the conquest fraudulent : 

He never more henceforth will dare set foot 610 

In Paradise to tempt ! his snares are bi'oke : 

For though that seat of earthly bliss be fail'd, 

A fairer Paradise is founded now 

For Adam and his chosen sons, whom thou 

A Saviour art come down to re-instal 615 

Where they shall dwell secure, when time shall be, 

Of Tempter and temptation without fear. 

But thou, infernal Serpent, shalt not long 

Rule in the. clouds; like an autumnal star 

Or lightning thou shalt fall from Heav'n, trod down 

Under his feet: for proof, ere this thou feel'st 621 

Thy wound, yet not thy last and deadliest wound, 

By this repulse received, and hold'st in Hell 

No triumph ; in all her g-ates Abaddon rues 

Thy bold attempt ; hereafter learn with awe 625 

To dread the Son of God ; he all unarm'd 

Shall chase thee with the terror of his voice 

From thy demoniac holds, possession foul. 

Thee and thy legions; yelling they shall fly. 

And beg to hide them in a herd of swine, 630 

Lest he command them down into tt e Deep, 

Bound, and to torment sent before their time. 

Hail Son of the Most High, heir of both worlds, 

Queller of Satan, on thy glorious work 

Now enter, and begin to save mankimL 635 

Thus they the Son of God our Saviour meek 
Sung Victor, and from heav'nly feast refresh'd 
Brought on his way with joy ; he unobserved 
Home to his mother's house private return'd. 

dOo. Debel ; from the Latin debellare^ to overcome in battle. 
6ifl. Luke X. 18. 624. Rev ix. 11. 



^- * , 




SLlvtictLaels Mount. STnip wreck of L^^cidas 



SAMSON AGONISTES: 

A DRAMATIC POEM. 



THE ARGUMENT. 

San;.sovi made captive, blind, and now in tiie prison of Ga/a, 
inere to labour as in a common woriihouse, on a festival day, in 
the general cessation from labour, comes forth into the open 
air, To a phice nigh, somewhat retired, there to sit awiii'e and 
bemoan his condition. Wiiere he happens at length to be visited 
by certain friends and equals of his tribe, wliich nrake tlie Cliorus, 
who seeJ; to comfort him what they can ; tlien by his old father, 
.Maaoah, who endeavours the like, and withal tells him his pur- 
pose to procure his liberty by ransom ; lastly, that this feast was 
proclaimed by the Philistines as a day of thanksg-iving for their 
deliverance from the hands of Samson, which yet moi^e troubles 
him. Manoah then departs to prosecute his endeavour with the 
Philistine lords for Samson's redemption ; who in the meanwhile 
is visited by other persons : and lastly by a public officer to 
require his comings to the feast before the lords and people, to 
play or shew his streng;th in their presence; he at first refuses, 
dismissing- the public officer with absolute denial to come ; at 
len-ith, persuaded inwardly that this was from God, he yields to 
go along- witn him, who came now the second time with ^reat 
threareninirs to fetch him : tht- Chorus yet remaining on the place, 
Manoah returns full of joyful hope, to procure ere long his son'd 
deliverance, in the n)idst of whicli discourse an Hebrew comes in 
haste, confusedly at first, and afterwards more distinctly relating 
the catastrophe, what Samson had done to the Philistines, and by 
accident to himself; wherewith the tragedy ends. 

THE PERSONS. 

Samso7i, j HarapJia of Gath. 

Manoah, the father of 1 E'ublic Officer. 

Samson. ] Messenger. 

Daiila, his wife. | Chorus of Danitef. 

The Scene, before the Prison in Gaza, 

Samson. Attendant leading him, 
A liiTTLE onward lend thy guiding- Hand 
\To these dark steps, a little further on ; 

r yonder bank hath choice of sun or shade : 
There I am wont to sit, when any chance 
Relieves me from my task of servile toil, 6 



%: 



Samson Agonistes ; Agonistes is a Greek word signifying Actor. 
I'he introduction is in imitation of the Q2dip\is Coloneus of So- 
phocles. For the subject of the poem, and most of the scriptural 
allusions it contains, reference may be made in general to the Book 
of Judgt'5. 



356 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Daily iu the common prisop else enjoiii'd me, 

Where I, a prisoner chain 'd, scarce freely draw 

The air imprison 'd also, close and damp, 

Unwholesome draught ! but here I feel amends. 

The breath of Heav'n fresh blowing-, pure and sweet, 

With day-spring- born ; here leave me to respire. 11 

This day a solemn feast the people hold 

To Dagon their sea-idol, and forbid 

Laborious v/orks ; unwillingly this rest 

Their superstition yields me ; lience with leave 15 

Retiring from the popular noise, 1 seek 

This imfreqTiented place to find some ease. 

Ease to the body some, none to the mind 

From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm 

Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, 20 

But rusVi upon me thronging, and present 

Times past, what once I was, and what am now. 

O wherefore was my birth from Heav'n foretold 

Twice by an angel, who at last in sight 

Of both my parents all in flames ascended 25 

From off the altar, where an offering- burn'd, 

As in a fiery column charioting- 

His god-like presence, and from some great act 

Or benefit reveal'd to Abraham's race ? 

Why was my breeding- order'd and prescribed 30 

As of a person separate to God, 

Pesign'd for great exploits : if I must die 

Betray'd, captived, and both my eyes put out. 

Made of my enemies the scorn and gaze ; 

To grind in brazen fetters under task 35 

With this Heav'n-g-ifted strength 1 glorious strength 

Put to the labour of a beast, debased 

Lower than bond-slave ! Promise was that I 

Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver ; 

Ask for this great deliverer nov/, and find him 40 

Eyeless in Gaza at the mill with slaves, 

Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke : 

Yet stay, let me not rashly call in doubt 

Divine prediction ; what if all foretold 

Had been fulfill'd but through mine own default, 45 

Whom have I to complain of but myself? 

Who this high gift of strength committed to me, 

In what part lodged, how easily bereft me, 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 357 

Under the seal of silence could not keep 

But weakly to a woman must reveal it, 50 

O'ercome with importunity and tears. 

O impotence of mind, in body strong ! 

But what is streng-th withoiit a double share 

Of wisdom, vast, unwieldy, burdensome. 

Proudly secure, yet liable to fall 55 

By weakest subtleties, not made to rule. 

But to subserve where wisdom bears command ? 

God, when he gave me strength, to shew withal 

How slight the gift was, hung it in my hair. 

But peace, I must not quarrel with the will GC 

Of highest dispensation, which herein 

Haply had ends above my reach to know : 

Suffices that to me strength is my bane. 

And proves the source of all my miseries ; 

So many, and so huge, that each apart 05 

Would ask a life to wail, but chief of all, 

O loss of sight, of thee I most complain I 

Blind among enemies, O worse than chains. 

Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age ! 

Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct, 70 

And all her various objects of delight 

Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eased 

Inferior to the vilest now become 

Of man or woi-m ; the vilest here excel me. 

They creep, yet see, I dark in light exposed 75 

To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong ; 

Within doors, or without, still as a fool, 

In power of others, never in my own ; 

Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half. 

(O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, 80 

Irrecoverably dark, total. eclipse 
Without all hope of day j/ 
O first-created beam, and thou great Word, 
Let there be light, and light was over all ; 
Why am I thus bereaved thy prime decree ? 85 

[The sun to me is dark 

yind silent as the moon, . 

^hen she deserts the night) 

87. Shakspeare, second part of Henry VI. Act 1. Sc. 8. — The 
tilenl of the night, which is a classical expression, means, ac- 
cording to Warburton, an interlunar night. 



358 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Hid in her vacant interlunar cave. 

Since light so necessary is to life, 90 

And almost life itself, if it be true 

I'hat light is in the soul. 

She all in every part ; why was the si^ht 

To such a tender ball as th' eve confined, 

So obvious and so easy to be quench'd I 93 

And not, as feeling, through all parts diffused, 

That she might look at will through every pore? 

Then had I not been thus exiled from light, 

As in the land of darkness yet in light, 

To live a life half dead, a living- death, 100 

And bury'd : but O yet more miserable I 

Myself my sepulchre, a moving* grave, 

Bury'd, yet not exempt 

By privileg'e of death and burial 

Fi'om worst of other evils, pains and wrongs, 105 

But made hereby obnoxious more 

To all the miseries of life. 

Life in captivity 

Among inhuman foes. 

But who are these 1 for with joint pace I hear 110 

The tread of many feet steering- this way ; 

Perhaps my enemies, who come to stare 

At my affliction, and perhaps t' insult. 

Their daily practice, to afflict me more. 

Chor. This, this is he ; softly a while, 115 

Let us not break in upon him ; 
O change beyond report, thought, or belief 1 
See how he lies at random, carelessly diffused, 
With languish 'd head unpropt. 

As one past hope abandon'd, 120 

And by himself given over ; 
In slavish habit, ill-fitted weeds 
O'er- worn and soil'd; 

Or do my eyes misrepresent? Can this be he. 
That heroic, that renown'd, 1*25 

Irresistible Samson ? whom unarm'd [stand ; 

No strength of man, or fiercest wild beast, could with- 
Who tore the lion, as the lion tears the kid, 
Ran on embattled armies clad in iron, 

118. Diffused, a classical expression very frequently used la 
describe the languid pcsture of a weary persou. 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 359 

And, weaponless himself, 13q 

Wade arms ridiculous, useless the forger> 
Of brazen shield and spear, the hamraer'd cuirass, 
Chalybean temper'd steel, and frock of mail 
Adamantean proof; 

But safest he who stood aloof, 13-; 

When insupportably his foot advanced, 
In scorn of their proud arms and warlike tools, 
Spurn'd them to death by troops. The bold Ascalonite, 
Fled from his lion ramp, old warriors turn'd 
Tiieir plated backs under his heel; 140 

Or groveling- soil'd their crested helmets in the dust. 
Then with what trivial v/eapon came to hand. 
The jaw of a dead ass, his sword of bone, 
A thousand fore-skins fell, the flower of Palestine, 
In Raniath-lechi, famous to this day. 145 

Then by main force puU'd up, and on his shoulders 
The g-ates of Azza, post, and massy bar, [bore 

Up to the hill by Hebron, seat ol g-iants old. 
No journey of a sabbath-day; and loaded so. 
Like whom the Gentiles fei^n to bear up Heaven. 
Which shall I first bewail, 151 

Thy bondage or lost sight. 
Prison within prison 
Inseparably dark ? 

Thou art become (O worst imprisonment !) 155 

The dungeon of thyself; thy soul [plain) 

(Which men enjoying sight oft withaut cause com- 
Imprison'd now indeed, 
In real darkness of the body dwells. 
Shut up from outward lig-ht IfiO 

To incorporate with gloomy ni^ht ; 
For inward light, alas ! 
Puts forth no visual beam. 
O mirror of our fickle state, 

Since man on earth unparallel'd ! 105 

The rarer thy example stands, 
By how much from the top of wondrous glory, 

133. The Chalybei? were celebrated for their skill in 

tempering' steel. 

I3G. Spenser's Faery ttiieene, B. 1. Can. 7. St, 11. 

^ 138. I Sam. vi. 17. 

{ 47 ^zza lor Gaza, to avoid the alliteration of g-ates and Gazju 

148. Josh. XV. 13, M. Num. xiii. 33. 

e 



3G0 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Strongest of mortal men, 

To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou ait fallen. 

For him I reckon not in high estate 170 

Whom long descent of birth 

Or the sphere of fortune raises ; 

But thee whose strength, while virtue was her mate, 

Might have subdued the earth 

Universally crown'd with highest praises, I?.") 

Sa77i. I hear the sounds of words ; their sense the 
Dissolves unjointed ere it reach my ear. [air 

Chor. He speaks, let us draw nigh. Matchless in 
The glory late of Israel, now the grief; [might, 

We come thy friends and neighbours not unknown 
From Eshtaol and Zora's fruitful vale, 18/ 

To visit or bewail thee ; or, if better. 
Counsel or consolation we may bring, 
Salve to thy sores ; apt words have power to swajie 
The tumours of a troubled mind, 185 

And are as balm to fester 'd wounds. 

Sain. Yrur coming, friends, revives me, for 1 learn 
Now of my own experience, not by talk, 
How counterfeit a coin they are who friends 
Bear in their superscription (of the most VJQ 

I v/ould be understood), in prosperous days 
They swai*m, but in adverse withdraw their head, 
Not to be found, though sought. Ye see, O friends, 
How many evils have inclosed me round ; 
Yet that which was the worst now least afflicts me, 
Blindness, for had I sight, confused with shame, Vdi\ 
How could I once look up, or heave the head, 
Who like a foolish pilot have shipwreck'd 
My vessel trusted to me from above, 
Gloriously rigg'd ; and for a word, a tear, 200 

Fool! have divulged the secret gift of God 
To a deceitful woman? Tell me, friends. 
Am I not sung and proverb'd for a fool 
In every street 1 do they not say, How well 
Are come upon him his deserts ? yet why? 205 

Immeasurable strength they might behold 
1)1 me, of wisdom nothing more than mean ; 
This with the other should at least have paird, 

181. Eshlaol and Zora, two towns belonging- to the tribe of I>iir, 
Josh. xix. 41. Judg. xiii. 2. 25. Josh. xv. 33. 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 301 

These two proportion 'd ill drove me transverse. 

Chor, Tax not divine disposal ; wisest men 210 
Have err'd, and by bad women been deceived ; 
And shall again, pretend they ne'er so wise. 
Deject not then so overmuch thyself, 
Who hast of sorrow thy full load besides ; 
Yet truth to say, I oft have heard men wonder 215 
Why thou shouldst wed Philistian women rather 
Than of thine own tribe fairer, or as fair. 
At least of thy own nation, and as noble. 

Sam. The first I saw at Timna, and she pleased 
Me, not my parents, that I sought to wed 220 

The daughter of an infidel : they knew not 
That what I motion'd was of God; I knew 
From intimate impulse, and therefore urged 
The marriage on ; that by occasion hence 
I might begin Israel's deliverance, 225 

The work to which I was divinely call'd. 
She proving false, the next I took to wdfe 
(O that I never had ! fond wish too late( 
Was in the vale of Sorec, Dalila, 
That specious monster, my aecomplish'd snare. 230 
I thought it lawful from my former act, 
And the same end ; still watching to oppress 
Israel's oppressors ; of what now I suffer 
She was not the prime cause, but I myself. 
Who vanquish'd with a peal of words (O weakness!) 
Gave up my fort of silence to a woman. 236 

Chor. In seeking just occasion to provoke 
The Philistine, thy country's enemy. 
Thou never wast remiss, I bear thee witness: 
Yet Israel still serves with all his sons. 240 

Sam. That fault I take not on me, but transfer 
On Israel's governors, and heads of tribes. 
Who seeing those great acts, which God had done 
Singly by me against their conquerors, 
Acknowledged not, or not at all consider'd 245 

Deliverance ofFer'd : I on the other side 
Used no ambition to commend my deeds, [doer ; 

The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the 
But they persisted deaf, and would not seem 
To count them things worth notice, till at length 250 
Their lords the Philistines with gather'd powers 
R 



»62 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Eater'd Judea seeking- me, who then 

Safe to the rock of Etham was retired. 

Not flyin^', but forecasting in what place 

To set upon them, what advantaged best : 255 

Meanwhile the men of Judah, to prevent 

The harass of their land, beset me round ; 

I willingly on some conditions came 

Into their hands, and they as gladly yield me 

To the uncircumcised a welcome prey, 2(50 

Bound with two cords ; but cords to me were threads 

Touch'd with the flame : on their whole host I flew 

Unarm'd, and with a trivial weapon fell'd 

Their choicest youth ; they only lived who fled. 

Had Judah that day join'd, or one whole tribe, 265 

They had by this possess'd the towers of Oath, 

And lorded over them whom they now serve : 

But what more oft in nations grown corrupt. 

And by their vices brought to servitude, 

Than to love bondage more than liberty ; 270 

Bondage with ease than strenuous liberty : 

And to despise, or envy, or suspect 

Whom God hath of his special favour raised 

As their deliverer; if he aught begin, 

How frequent to desert him, and at last 275 

To heap ingratitude on worthiest deeds ? 

Chor. Thy words to my remembrance bring 
How Succoth and che fort of Penuel 
Their great deliverer contemn'd, 
The matchless Gideon in pursuit 280 

Of Madian and her vanqaish'd kings : 
And how ingrateful Ephraim 
Had dealt with Jephtha, who by argument, 
Not worse than by his shield and spear. 
Defended Israel from the Ammonite, 285 

Had not his prowess quell'd their pride 
In that sore battle, when so many died 
Without reprieve adjudged to death, 
For want of well pronouncing Shibboleth. 

Sam. Of such examples add me to the roll, 290 
Me easily indeed mine may neglect, 
But God's proposed deliverance not so. 

Chor. Just are the ways of God, 
And justifiable to men ; 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 363 

Unless there be who think not Cod at all; 'ii).3 

If any be, they walk obscure ; 
For of such doctrine never was there school. 
But the heart of the fool, 
And no man therein doctor but himself. 299 

Yet more there be who doubt his ways not just, 
As to his own edicts found contradicting', 
Then give the reins to wandering- thought, 
Regardless of his g-lory's diminution ; 
Till by their own perplexities involved 
They ravel more, still less resolved, 305 

But never find self-satisfying- solution. 

As if they would confine th' Interminable, 
And tie him to his own prescript, 
"Who made our laws to bind us, not himself, 
And hath full right to exempt 310 

Whom so it pleases him by choice 
From national obstriction, without taint 
Of sin, or legal debt ; 
For with his own laws he can best dispense. 

He would not else, who never wanted means, 315 
Nor in respect of th' enemy just cause 
To set his people free, 
Have prompted this heroic Nazarite, 
Ag-ainst his vow of strictest purity, 
To seek in marriag-e that fallacious bride, 320 

Unclean, unchaste. 

Down reason then, at least vain reasonings down, 
Thoug-h reason here aver 
That moral verdict quits her of unclean : 
Unchaste was subsequent; her stain, not his. 325 

But see, here comes thy reverend sire 
With careful step, locks white as down. 
Old Manoah : advise 
Forthwith how thou ought'st to receive him. 

Sa7n. Ay me, another inward grief awaked 330 
With mention of that name renews th* assault. 

Man. Brethren and men of Dan, for such ye seem, 
Though in this uncouth place ; if old respect, 

298. Ps. xiv. 1. 
319. Samson's vow as a Nazarite, obliged him to the most per- 
fect observance of the whole Mosaical law, which he broke by his 
marriage with a Gentile wopiap. 



364 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

As I suppose, towards your once giory'd friend, 
My son now captive, hither hath inform'd 33;i 

Your younger feet, while mine cast back with age 
Came lagging- after ; say if he be here 1 

Chor. As signal now in low dejected state, 
As erst in highest, behold him where he lies. 

Ma7i. O miserable change! is this the man, 34C 
That invincible Samson, far renown'd. 
The dread of Israel's foes, who with a strength 
Equivalent to angels walk'd their streets, 
None offering fight: who single combatant 
Duell'd their armies rank'd in proud array, Slj 

Himself an army, now unequal match 
To save himself against a coward arm'd 
At one spear's length ? O ever-failing trust. 
Immortal strength ! and oh what not in man 
Deceivable and vain ? Nay, what thing good ^'M 
Pray'd for, but often proves our woe, our bane 1 
I pray'd for children, and thought barrenness 
In wedlock a reproach ; I gain'd a son. 
And such a son as all men hail'd me happy ; 
Who would be now a father in my stead 1 355 

O wherefore did God grant rac my request. 
And as a blessing with, such pomp adorn'd? 
Why are his gifts desirable, to tempt 
Our earnest prayers, then, given with solemn band 
As graces, draw a scorpion's tail behind ? SCO 

For this did th' angel twice descend ? for tliis 
Ordain 'd thy nurture holy as of a plant 
Select, and sacred, glorious for a while. 
The miracle of men ; then in an hour 
In snared, assaulted, overcome, led bound, ZQH 

Thy foes' deiision, captive, poor and blind, 
Into a dungeon thrust, to work with slaves t 
Alas, methinks whom God hath chosen once 
To worthiest deeds, if he through frailty en. 
He should not so o'erwhelm, and as a thrall 370 

Subject him to so foul indignities 
Be' it but for honour's sake of former deeds. 

Sam. Appoint not heav'nly disposition, Father; 
Notliing of all these evils hath befalln me 

359. Luke xl. 12. 
373. Appo'ml, arrajj^n or euuiinon to answer* 



SAMSON AGONISTES. SG5 

But justly ; I myself have brought them on, 375 

Sole author I, sole cause : if aught seem vile, 
As vile hath been my folly, who have profaned 
The mystery of God giv'n me under pledgee 
Of vow, and have betray'd it to a woman, 
A Canaanite, my faithless enemy. 380 

This well I knew, nor was at all surprised. 
But warn'd by oft experience : did not she 
Of Timna first betray me, and reveal 
The secret wrested from me in her highth 
Of nuptial love profess'd, carrying it straight 383 
To them who had corrupted her, my spies. 
And rivals 1 In this other was there found 
More faith, who also in her prime of love, 
Spousal embraces, vitiated with g'old, 
Though oflfer'd only, by the scent conceived 300 

Her spurious first-born, treason against me ? 
Thrice she assay 'd with flattering pray'rs and sighs, 
And amorous reproaches, to win from me 
My capital secret, in what part my strength [know ; 
Lay stored, in what part summ'd, that she niight 
Thrice I deluded her, and turn'd to sport 393 

Her importunity, each time perceiving- 
How openly, and with what impudence 
She purposed to betray me, and (which was worse 
Than undissembled hate) with what contempt 400 
She sought to make me traitor to myself; 
Yet the fourth time, when must'ring all her wileSj 
With blandish'd parleys, feminine assaults. 
Tongue-batteries, she surceased not day nor night 
To storm me over-watch'd, and weary'd out, 405 

At times when men seek most repose and rest, 
I yielded, and unlock'd her all my heart. 
Who with a grain of manhood well resolved 
Might easily have shook off all her snares ; 
But foul effeminacy held me yoked 410 

Her bond-slave ; O indignity, O blot 
To honour and religion ! servile mind 
Rewarded well with servile punishment! 
The base degree to Avhich I now am fallen, 
These rags, this grinding is not yet so base 413 

As was my former servitude ignoble. 
Unmanly, ignominious, infamous. 



S6G SAMSON AGONISTES. 

True slavery, and that blindness Avorse than this, 
That saw not how degenerately I served. 419 

Man. I cannot praise thy marriage choices, Son, 
Rather approved them not ; but thou didst plead 
Divine impulsion prompting how thou might'st 
Find some occasion to infest our foes. 
I state not that ; this I am sure, our foes 
Found soon occasion thereby to make thee 426 

Their captive, and their triumph ; thou the sooner 
Temptation found'st, or over-potent charms 
To violate the sacred trust of silence 
Deposited within thee ; which to have kept 
Tacit was in thy power : true ; and thou bear'st 430 
Enough, and more, the burden of that fault ; 
Bitterly hast thou paid, and still art paying 
That rigid score. A worse thing yet remains ; 
This day the Philistines a popular feast 
Here celebrate in Gaza; and proclaim 435 

Great pomp and sacrihce, and praises loud 
To Dagon, as their god who hath deliver'd 
Thee, Samson, bound and blind into their hands. 
Them out of thine, who slew'st them many a slain. 
So Dagon shall be magnified, and God, 440 

Besides whom is no god, compared with idols 
Disglorified, blasphemed, and had in scorn 
By the idolatrous rout amidst their wine ; 
Which to have come to pass by means of thee, 
Samson, of all thy sufferings think the heaviest, 4^13 
Of all reproach the most with shame that ever 
Could have befallen thee and thy father's house. 

Sam. Father, I do acknowledge and confess 
That I this honour, I this pomp, have brought 
To Dagon, and advanced his praises high 450 

Among the Heathen 'round ; to God have brought 
Dishonour, obloquy, and oped the mouths 
Of idolists, and atheists ; have brought scandal 
To Israel, difSderi-ce of God, and doubt 
In feeble hearts, propense enough before 455 

To waver, or fall off and join with idols ; 
Which is my chief affliction, shame and sorrow. 
The anguish of my soul, that suffers not 
Mine eye to harbour sleep, or thoughts to rest. 
This only hope relieves me, that the strife 4C0 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 367 

With me hath end ; all the contest is now 

'Twixt God and Dagon ; Dagon hath presumed. 

Me overthrown, to enter lists with God, 

His deity comparing- and preferring 

Before the God of Abraham. He, be sure, 405 

Will not connive, or linger, thus provoked, 

But will arise and his great name assert : 

Dagon must stoop, and shall ere long receive 

Such a discomfit, as sliall quite despoil him 

Of all these boasted trophies won on me, 470 

And with confusion blank his Avorshippers. 

Man. With cause this hope relieves thee, and these 
I as a prophecy receive ; for God, [words. 

Nothing- more certain, will not long defer 
To vindicate the glory of his name 475 

Against all competition, nor will long 
Endure it doubtful whether God be Lord, 
Or Dagon. But for thee what sliall be done '? 
Thou must not in the meanwhile here forgot 
Lie in this miserable loathsome plight 480 

Neglected. I already have made way 
To some Philistian lords, with whom to treat 
About thy ransom : well they may by this 
Have satisfied their utmost of revenge 
By pains and slaveries, worse than death inflicted 
On thee, who now no more canst do them harm. 486 

Sam. Spare that proposal, Father, spare the trouble 
Of that solicitation ; let me here, 
As I deserve, pay on my punishment ; 
And expiate, if possible, my crime, 490 

Shameful garrulity. To have reveal'd 
Secrets of men, the secrets of a friend. 
How heinous had the fact been, how deserving 
Contempt, and scoi-n of all, to be excluded 
All friendship, and avoided as a blab, 495 

The mark of fool set on his front? 
But I God's counsel have not kept, his holy secret 
Presumptuously have publish 'd impiously. 
Weakly at least, and shamefully : a sin 
That Gentiles in their parables condemn 500 

500. The aUusion is to tlie story of Tantalus, who it is said re- 
vealed the secrets of the gods, and was for that condemned to 
n7!nishnient in the infernal reg-ions. 
2 B 



268 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

To their abyss and horrid pains confined. 

Man. Be penitent and for thy fault contrite. 
But act not in thy own affliction, Son : 
Repent the sin, but if the punishment 
Thou canst avoid, self-preservation bids ; 503 

Or th' execution leave to high disposal. 
And let another hand, not thine, exact 
Thy penal forfeit from thyself ; perhaps 
God will reient, and quit thee all his debt ; 
Who ever more approves, and more accepts 510 

(Best pleased with humble' and filial submission) 
Him who imploring mercy sues for life. 
Than who self-rigorous chooses death as due : 
Which argues over-just, and self-displeased 
For self-offence, more than for God oifended. 515 

Reject not then what ofFer'd means ; who knows 
But God hath sent before us, to return thee 
Home to thy country and his sacred house. 
Where thou mayst bring thy offerings, to avert 
His further ire, with pray'rs and vows renew'd ? 520 

Sam. His pardon I implore ; but as for life, 
To what end should I seek it 1 when in strength. 
All mortals I excell'd, and great in hopes 
With youthful courage and magnanimous thoughts 
Of birth from Heav'n foretold and high exploits, 525 
Full of divine instinct, after some proof 
Of acts indeed heroic, far beyond 
The sons of Anak, famous now and blazed. 
Fearless of danger, like a petty god, 
I walk'd about admired of all, and dreaded 530 

On hostile ground, none daring my affront. 
Then swollen with pride into the snare I fell 
Of fair fallacious looks, venereal trains, 
Soften'd with pleasure and voluptuous life ; 
At length to lay my head and hallow'd pledge 535 
Of all my strength in the lascivious lap 
Of a deceitful concubine, who shore me 
Like a tame wether, all my precious fleece. 
Then turn'd me out ridiculous, despoil'd, 
Shaven and disarm'd among mine enemies. 540 

Chor. Desire of wine and all delicious drinks, 

538. Of is to be understood before allj See. 
441. Allusion is here made to the strictness ot living^ imposed 



SAMSON AGONISTES. S63 

Whicli many a famous warrior overturns, 
Thou couldst repress, nor did the dancing- ruby 
Sparkling-, out-pour'd, the flavour, or the smell. 
Or taste that cheers the heart of gods and men, 515 
Allure thee from the cool crystalline stream. 

Sam. Wherever fountain or fresh carrent flow'd 
Against the eastern ray, translucent, pure 
With touch ethereal of Heav'n's fiery rod, 
I drank, from the clear milky juice allaying 550 

Thirst, and refreshed ; nor envy'd them the grape 
Whose heads that turbulent liquor tills with fumes. 
Chor. O madness, to think use of strongest wines 
And strongest drinks our chief support of health. 
When God with these forbidden made choice to rear 
His mighty champion, strong above compare, 556 
Whose drink was only from the liquid brook. 

Sam. But what avail'd this temp'rance, not com- 
Against another object more enticing ? [plete 

What boots it at one gate to make defence, 5(J0 

And at another to let in the foe. 
Effeminately vanquish'd? by which means, 
Now blind, dishearten'd, shamed, dishonour 'd, quell 'd, 
To what can I be useful, wherein serve 
My nation, and the woi-k from Heav'n imposed, 565 
But to sit idle on the household hearth, 
A burdenous drone ; to visitants a gaze. 
Or pitied object, these redundant locks 
Robustious to no purpose clust'ring down, 
Vain monument of strength ; till length of years 570 
And sedentary numbness craze my limbs 
To a contemptible old age obscure ? 
Here rather let me drudge and earn my bread, 
Till vermin, or the draff of servile food. 
Consume me, and oft-invocated death 575 

Hasten the welcome end of all my pains. 

Man. Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with 
that gift 
Which was expressly given thee to annoy them ? 

by the Nazarite's vow, which Samson kept in all respects, but in 
his marriage with a strange woman. 

545. Judges ix. 13. Gods here means the false gods of the hei»t 
then cities, or the conquerors and great men, so called in honour 
if tlielr famous deeds- 

371. Craze, so used Par. Lost, xii. 210. 
R2 



370 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Better at home lie bed-rid, not only idle. 
Inglorious, unemploy'd, with age out-worn. 580 

But God, who caused a fountain at thy prayer 
From the dry g-round to spring, thy thirst to allay 
After the brunt of battle, can as easy 
Cause light again within thy eyes to spring, 
Wherewith to serve him better than thou hast ; 585 
And I persuade me so ; wliy else this strength 
Miraculous yet remaining in those locks ? 
His might continues in thee not for nought, 
Nor shall his wondrous gifts be frustrate thus. 589 

Sam. All otherwise to me ray thoughts portend. 
That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light. 
Nor th' other light of life continue long, 
But yield to double darkness nigh at hand : 
So much I feel my genial spirits droop. 
My hopes all flat, Nature within me seems 595 

In all her functions weary of herself. 
My race of glory run, and race of shame. 
And I shall shortly be with them that rest. 

Man. Believe not these suggestions which proceed 
From anguish of the mind and htimours black, eoo 
That mingle with thy fancy. I however 
Must not omit a father's timely care 
To prosecute the means of thy deliverance 
By ransom, or how else : meanwhile be calm, 
And healing words from these thy friends admit. 605 

Sam. O that torment should not be confined 
To the body's wounds and sores. 
With maladies innumerable 
In heart, head, breast and reins ; 
But must secret passage find 610 

To th' inmost mind. 
There exercise all his fierce accidents. 
And on her purest spirits prey. 
As on entrails, joints, and limbs, 
With answerable pains, but more intense, 615 

581. There is a difference between this account of the fountain 
which rose in answer to Samson's prayer, and that which is s"iven 
in our translation of the Scripture. In the laiter it is said -the 
water sprang- from the cleft jaw, but by most of the commentators 
it is said, that as the word translated jaro is the proper name oi 
a spot of ground, it should not in this pla/:e be trinslated in the 
sense given in our version. 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 371 

Though void of corporal sense. 

My g-riefs not only pain ine 
As a lingering- disease, 

But, finding no redress, ferment and rage ; 
Nor less than wounds immedicable 620 

Rankle, and fester, and gangrene, 
To black mortification. 

Thoughts my tormentors arm'd with deadly stings 
Mangle my apprehensive tenderest parts. 
Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise 625 

Dire inflammation, which no cooling herb 
Or medicinal liquor can assuage, 
Nor breath of veraal air from snowy Alp. 
Sleep hath forsook and given me o'er 
To death's benumbing opium as my only cure : 630 
Thence faintings, swoonings of despair, 
And sense of Heav'n's desertion. 

I was his nursling once and choice delight, 
His destined from the womb, 

Pi'omised by heav'nly message twice descending. 635 
Under his special eye 

Abstemious I gi'ew up and thrived amain ; 
He led me on to mightiest deeds 
Above the nerve of mortal arm 

Against th' uncircumcised, our enemies : 640 

But now hath cast rae off as never known, 
And to those cruel eneraies^ 
Whom I by his appointment had provoked. 
Left me all helpless with th' irreparable loss 
Of sight, reserved alive to be repeated 645 

The subject of their cruelty or scorn. 
Nor am I in the list of them that hope ; 
Hopeless are all my evils, all remediless ; 
This one prayer yet remains, might I be heard, 
No long petition, speedy death, 650 

•The close of all my miseries, and the balm. 

Chor. Many are the sayings of the wise 
In ancient and in modern books inroll'd, 
Extolling patience as the truest fortitude : 
And to the bearing well of all calamities, 655 

All chances incident to man's frail life, 

628. Alp, here used as a sreneral name for mountains : 
see also I'ar. Lost, ii. 628. 



372 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Consolatories writ 

With studied argument, and much persuasion sought. 

Lenient of g-rief and anxious thought: 

But with th' afflicted in his pangs their sound 660 

Little prevails, or rather seems a tune 

Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint ; 

Unless he feel within 

Some source of consolation from ahove. 

Secret refreshings, that repair his strength, 665 

And fainting spirits uphold. 

God of our Fathers ! what is man, 
That thou towards him with hand so various, 
Or might I say contrarious, 

Teraper'st thy providence through his short course, 
Not evenly, as thou rul'st 671 

Th' angelic orders and inferior creatures mute, 
Irrational and brute 1 

Nor do I name of men the common rout. 
That, wand'ring loose about, 675 

Grow up and perish as the summer fly, 
Heads without name no more remember'd ; 
But such as tho\i hast solemnly elected, 
With gifts and graces eminently adorn'd 
To some great work, thy glory, 6S0 

And people's safety, which in part they effect : 
Yet toward these thus dignified, thou oft 
Amidst their highth of noon 

Changest thy count'nance, and thy hand with no 
Of highest favours past [regard 

From thee on them, or them to thee of service. 686 
Nor only dost degrade them, or remit 
To life obscured, which were a fair dismission, 
But throw'st them lower than thou didst exalt them 
Unseemly falls in human eye, [high, 

Too grievous for the trespass or omission ; 691 

Oft leavest them to the hostile sword 
Of Heathen and profane, their carcases 
To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captived ; 
Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times, 
And condemnation of th' ungrateful multitude. 696 
If these they 'scape, perhaps in poverty 

658. Fraught is proposed by Warburton, instead of sought. 
661. Ecclus. xxii. 6. 



SAMSON AGONKSTES. 373 

With sickness and disease thou bow'st them down. 

Painful diseases and deform'd. 

In crude old age : 700 

Thoug-h not disordinate, yet causeless suffering 

The punishment of dissolute days ; in fine. 

Just or unjust alike seem miserable, 

For oft alike both come to evil end. 

So deal not with this once thy glorious champion 
The image of thy strength, and mighty minister. 70(i 
What do I beg-? how hast thou dealt already? 
Behold him in this state calamitous, and turn 
His labours, for thou canst, to peaceful end. 

But who is this, what thing of sea or land ? 710 
Female of sex it seems, 
That so bedeck'd, ornate and gay. 
Comes this way sailing 
Like a stately ship 

Of Tarsus, bound for th' isles 715 

Of Javan or Gadire 

With all her bravery an, and tackle trim. 
Sails fill'd, and streamers waving, 
Courted by all the winds that hold them play, 
An amber scent of odorous perfume 720 

Her harbinger, a damsel train behind 1 
Some rich Philistian matron she may seem. 
And now at nearer view, no other certain 
Than DaUla thy wife. 

Sa7?i. My wife, my traitress, let her not come near 
me. 725 

Chor. Yet on she moves, now stands and eyes thee 
fix'd. 
About to have spoke, but now, with head declined 
Like a fair flower surcharged with dew, she v/eeps. 
And words address'd seem into tears dissolved, 
Wetting the borders of her silken veil : 730 

But now again she makes address to speak. 

Dal. With doubtful feet and wavering resolution 
1 came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson, 
Which to have merited, without excuse, 
I cannot but acknowledge ; yet if tears 735 

700. Crtide, premature. 
714. This comparison is to be foniid in several of the older 
poets, Shakspeare, Beaumont and Fletcherj &c. 



374 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

May expiate (though the fact more evil drew 

In the perverse event than I foresaw) 

My penance hath not slacken'd, though my pardon 

No way assured. But conjugal affection 

Prevailing over fear, and timorous doubt, 740 

Hath led me on desirous to behold 

Once more thy face, and know of thy estate. 

If aught in my ability may serve 

To lighten what thou suffer'st, and appease 

Thy mind with what amends is in my power, 745 

Though late, yet in some part to recompense 

My rash but more unfortunate misdeed. 

Sam. Out, out, hysena ; these are thy wonted arts, 
And arts of every woman false like thee, 
To break all faith, all vows, deceive, betray, 750 

Then, as repentant, to submit, beseech, 
Aad reconcilement move with feign'd remorse. 
Confess, and promise wonders in her change. 
Not truly penitent, but chief to try 
Her husband, how far urged his patience bears, Th'S 
His virtue or weakness which way to assail : 
Then with more cautious and instructed skill 
Again transgresses, and again submits ; 
That wisest and best men, full oft beguiled, 
With goodness principled not to reject 760 

The penitent, but ever to forgive, 
Are drawn to wear out miserable days. 
Entangled with a pois'nous bosom snake, 
If not by quick destruction soon cut off 
As I by thee, to ages an example. 765 

Dal. Yet hear me, Samson; not that I endeavour 
To lessen or extenuate my offence. 
But that on the other side if it be weigh'd 
By' itself, with aggravations not surcharged, 
Or else with just allowance counterpoised, 77(J 

I may, if possible, thy pardon ifind 
The easier towards me, or thy hati'ed less. 
First granting, as I do, it was a Aveakness 
In me, but incident to all our sex, 
Curiosity, inquisitive, importune 775 

Of secrets, then with like infirmity 

748. Hymna ; this animal is known to imitate tlie human voice 
so well, as to have deceived travellers with its compluints. 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 375 

To publish them, both coiEsmoii female faults : 
Was it not weakness also to make known 
For importunity, that is for nought, 
Wherein consisted all thy strength and safety ? 780 
To what I did, thou shew'dst me first the way. 
But I to enemies revea-i'd, and should not : [frailty : 
Nor should'st thou have trusted that to woman's 
Ere I to thee, thou to thyself v/ast cruel. 
Let weakness then with weakness come to parle 785 
So near related, or the same of kind, 
Thine forgive mine: that men may censure thine 
1'he gentler, if severely thou exact not 
More strength from me than in thyself was found. 
And what if love, which thou interpret'st hate, 790 
Tiie jealousy of love, powerful of sway 
In human hearts, nor less in mind tow'rds thee, 
Caused what I did? I saw thee mutable 
Of fancy, fear'd lest one day thoxi would'st leave me 
As her at Timna, sought by all means therefore 795 
How to endear, and hold thee to me firmest : 
No better way I saw than by importuning 
To learn thy secrets, get into my power 
Thy key of strength and safety : thou wilt say, 
Wiiy then reveal'd 1 I was assured by those 800 

Who tempted me, that nothing was design'd 
Against thee but safe custody and hold: 
That made for me ; I knew that liberty 
Would draw thee forth to peinlous enterprises, 
While I at hom?e sat full of cares and fears, 805 

Wailing thy absence in my widow'd bed ; 
J ere I should still enjoy thee day and night 
Mine and Love's prisoner, not the Philistines', 
Whole to myself, unhazarded abroad, 
Fearless at home of partners in my love. 810 

These reasons in love's law have past for good. 
Though fond and reasonless to some perhaps : 
And love hath oft, well meaning, wrought n\uch woe, 
Yet always pity' or pardon hath obtain'd. 
Be not unlike all others, not austere 815 

As thou art strong, inflexible as steel. 
If thou in strength all mortals dost exceed, 
In uncompassionate anger do not so. 
Satn. How cimningly the sorceress displays 

f 



376 SAMSON AGOMSTES. 

Her own transgi-essions, to upbraid me mine ! 820 

That malice, not repentance, brought thee hither, 

By this appears : I g-ave, thou say*3t, th' example, 

I led the way : bitter reproach, but true : 

I to myself was false ere thou to me : 

Such pardon therefore as I give my folly, 825 

Take to thy wicked deed ; which when thou seest 

Impartial, self-severe, inexorable, 

Thou wilt renounce thy seeking", and much rather 

Confess it feign'd : weakness is thy excuse 

And I believe it, weakness to resist 830 

Philistian gold : if weakness may excuse, 

What murderer, what traitor, parricide, 

Incestuous, sacrilegious, but may plead it? 

All wickedness is weakness : that plea therefore 

With God or man will gain thee no remission. 835 

But love constrain'd thee ; call it furious rage 

To satisfy thy lust; love seeks to' have love; 

My love how could'st thou hope, who took'st the way 

To raise in me inexpiable hate. 

Knowing, as needs I must, by thee betray'd 1 84-Q 

In vain thou striv'st to cover shame with shame. 

Or by evasions thy crime uncover'st more. 

Dal. Since thou determin'st weakness for no plea 
In man or woman, though to thy own condemning. 
Hear what assaults I had, what snares besides, 845 
What sieges girt me round, ere I consented ; 
Which might have awed the best resolved of men, 
The constantest, to' have yielded without blame. 
It was not gold, as to my charge thou lay'st. 
That wrought with me : thou know'st the magistrates 
And princes of my country came in person, 851 

Solicited, commanded, threaten'd, urged, 
Adjured by all the bonds of civil duty 
And of religion, press'd how just it was. 
How honourable, how glorious, to entrap 855 

A common enemy, Avho had destroy'd 
Such numbers of our nation ; and the priest 
Was not behind, but ever at my ear. 
Preaching* how meritorious with the gods 
It would be to insnare an irreligious 860 

Dishonourer of Dagon : what had 1 
To' oppose against such powerful arguments'? 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 377 

Only my love of thee held long debate, 

And combated in silence all these reasons 

With hard contest : at length that grounded maxim. 

So rife and celebrated in the mouths SQ6 

Of wisest men, that to the public good 

Private respects must yield, Avith grave authority 

Took full possession of me and prevail'd : 

Virtue, as I thought, truth, duty, so enjoining, [end; 

Sam. I thought where all thy circling wiles would 
In feign'd religion, smooth hypocrisy. 
But had thy love, still odiously pretended, 
Been, as it ouglit, sincere, it would have taught thee 
Far other reasonings, brought forth other deeds. 875 
1 before all the daughters of my tribe 
And of my nation chose thee from among 
My enemies, loved thee, as too well thou knew'st. 
Too well, unbosom'd all my secrets to thee. 
Not out of levity, but overpower'd 880 

By thy request, who could deny thee nothing; 
Yet now am judged an enemy. Why then 
Did'st thou at first receive me for thy husband. 
Then, as since then, thy country's foe profess'd ? 
Being once a wife, for me thou wast to leave 885 
Parents and country: nor was I their subject. 
Nor under their protection, but my own. 
Thou mine, not theirs : if aught against my life 
Thy counti-y sought of thee, it sought unjustly 
Against the law of nature, law of nations, 890 

No more thy country, but an impious crew 
Of men conspiring to uphold their state 
By worse than hostile deeds, violating the ends 
For which our country is a name so dear ; 
Not therefore to be obey'd. But zeal moved thee; 
To please thy gods thou didst it ; gods unable 8f>6 
To' acquit themselves and prosecute their foes 
But by ungodly deeds, the contradiction 
Of their own deity, gods cannot be ; 
Less therefore to be pleased, obey'd, or fear'd. 900 
These false pretexts and vamish'd colours failing. 
Bare in thy guilt how foul must thou appear "? 

Dal. In argument with men a woman ever 
Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause. 904 

Sam* For want of words no doubt, or lack of breath ; 



S78 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Witness when I was worried with thy peals. 

DaL I was a fool, too rash, and quite mistaken 
In what I thought would have succeeded best. 
Let me obtain forgiveness of thee, Samson, 
Afford me place to shew what recompense 91f 

Tow'rds thee I intend for what I have misdoue. 
Misguided ; only what remains past cure 
Bear not too sensibly, nor still insist 
To' afflict thyself in vain : though sigiit be lost, 
Life yet hath many solaces, enjoy'd 9 5 

Where other senses want not their delights 
At home in leisure and domestic ease. 
Exempt from many a care and chance to which 
Eye-sight exposes daily men abroad. 
I to the lords will intercede, not doubting 920 

Their favourable ear, that I may fetch thee 
From forth this loathsome prison-house, to abide 
With me, where my redoubled love and care 
With nursing diligence, to me glad office. 
May ever tend about thee to old age 925 

With all things grateful cheer'd, and so supplied. 
That what by me thou' hast lost thou least shalt miss. 

Sam. No, no, of my condition take no care ; 
It fits not ; thou and I long since are twain : 
Nor think me so unwary or accursed, 930 

To bring my feet again into the snare 
Where once I have been caught ; I know thy trains 
Though dearly to my cost, thy gins and toils ; 
Thy fair enchanted cup, and warbling charms 
No more on me have power, their force is nuil'd. 
So much of adder's wisdom I have learn'd 930 

To fence my ear against thy sorceries. 
If in my flower of* youth and strength, when all men 
Loved, honour'd, fear'd me, thou alone could'st hate 

me 
Thy husband, slight me, sell me, and forego me ; 940 
How wouldst thou use me now, blind, and thereby 
Deceivable, in most things as a child 
Helpless, thence easily contemn'd, and scorn'd, 
And last neglected ? How would'st thou insult, 

934. There is no particular allusion here, as has teen supposed, 
to the fable of Circe and her enchanted cup ; it is but the common 
figurative language of poetry, and involves no iiTipropriety or 
anachronism. 9^6. Psal. Iviii. 4, 5. 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 379 

When I must live uxorious to thy will 945 

In perfect thraldom, how ag-ain betray me, 

Bearing- my words and doings to the lords 

To g-loss upon, and, censuring, frown or smile 1 

This jail I count the house of liberty 

To thine, whose doors my feet shall never enter. 950 

Dal. Let me approach at least, and touch thy hand. 

Sajn, Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance 
wake 
My sudden rage to tear thee joint by joint. 
At distance I forg-ive thee, go with that, 
Bewail thy falsehood, and the pious works 955 

It hath brought forth to make thee memorable 
Among illustrious women, faithful wives: 
Cherish thy hasten'd widowhood with the gold 
Of matrimonial treason : so farewell. 

Dal. I see thou art implacable, more deaf 960 

To prayers than winds and seas, yet winds to seas 
Are reconciled at length, and sea to shore : 
Thy anger unappeasable, still rag-es, 
Eternal tempest never to be calm'd. 
Why do I humble thus myself, and suing 965 

For peace, reap nothing but repulse and hate ? 
Bid g-o with evil omen and the brand 
Of infamy upon my name denounced? 
To mix with thy concernments I desist 
Henceforth, nor too much disapprove my own. 970 
Fame if not double-faced is double-mouth'd. 
And with contrary blast proclaims most deeds ; 
On both his wings, one black, the other white. 
Bears greatest names in his wild aery flight. 
My name perhaps among the circumcised 975 

In Dan, in Judah, and the bordering tribes, 
To all posterity may stand defamed. 
With malediction mention'd, and the blot 
Of falsehood most unconjugal ti*aduced. 
But in my country, where I most desire, 980 

In Ecron, Gaza, Ashdod, and in Gath, 
I shall be named among the famousest 
Of women, sung at solemn festivals. 
Living and dead recorded who, to save 

973. Milton is here contrary to his predecessors, they making 
fame a goiidess, he a god. 



H80 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Her country from a fierce destroyer, choie S85 

Above the faith of wedlock bands, my tomb 

With odours visited and annual flowers ; 

Not less renown 'd than in Mount Ephraim 

Jael, who with inltospitable guile 

Smote Sisera sleeping-, through the temples nail'd. 

Nor shall I count it heinous to enjoy 991 

The public marks of honour and reward 

Conferr'd upon me for tJie piety 

Which to my country I was judg-ed to have shewn. 

At this whoever envies or repines, 995 

I leave him to his lot, and like my own. 

Chor, She's gone, a manifest serpent by her sting- 
Discover'd in the end, till now concealed. 

Sam, So let her go, God sent her to debase me, 
And aggravate my folly, who committed 1000 

To such a viper his most sacred trust 
Of secrecy, my safety, and my life. [power 

Chor. Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange 
After offence returning, to regain 
Love once possess'd, nor can be easily 1005 

Repulsed, without much inward passion felt 
And secret sting of amorous remorse. 

Sam. Love quarrels oft in pleasing concord end, 
Not wedlock treachery endangering life. 

Chor, It is not virtue, wisdom, valour, wit, 1010 
Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit 
That woman's love can wiii or long inherit ; 
But what it is, hard is to say. 
Harder to hit 

(Which way soever men refer it), 1015 

Much like thy riddle, Samson, in one day 
Or seven, though one should musing sit. 

If any of these or all, the Timnian bride 
Had not so soon preferr'd 

Thy paranymph, worthless to thee compared, 1020 
Successor to thy bed. 
Nor both so loosely disally'd 
Their nuptials, nor this last so treacherously 
Had shorn the fatal harvest of thy head. 

9a5. It is supposed that the annual visitation of tombs was an 
eastern custom. 988. Judges iv. >. 

1020. Paranympli ; brideaian. 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 381 

Is it for that such outward ornament 1025 

Was lavish'd on their sex, that inward gifts 

Were left for haste unfinish'd, judgment scant. 

Capacity not raised to apprehend 

Or value what is best 

In choice, but oftest to affect the wrong t 1030 

Or was too much of self-love mix'd, 

Of constancy no root infix'd. 

That either they love nothing, or not long? 

Whate'er it be, to wisest men and best 
Seeming at first all heav'nly under virgin veil, 1035 
Soft, modest, meet, demure. 
Once join'd, the contrary she proves, a thorn 
Intestine, far within defensive arms 
A cleaving mischief, in his way to virtue 
Adverse and turbulent, or by her chai ms 1040 

Draws him awry inslaved 
With dotage, and his sense depraved 
To folly and shameful deeds which ruin ends 
What pilot so expert but needs must wBeck 
Imbark'd with such a steers-mate at the helm 1 1045 

Favour'd of Heav'n who finds 
One virtuous, rarely found. 
That in domestic good combines ; 
Happy that house ! his way to peace is smooth : 
But virtue which breaks through all opposition, 1050 
And all temptation can remove. 
Most shines and most is acceptable above. 
Therefore God's universal law 

Gave to the man despotic power 1055 

Over his female in due awe, 
Nor from that right to part an hour 
Smile she or lour: 
So shall he least confusion draw 
On his own life, not sway'd 

By female usurpation, or dismay'd. 1060 

But had we best retire, I see a storm "? 

Sa7n. Fair days have oft contracted wind and rain. 

Chor. But this another kind of tempest brings. 

Sa77i. Be less abtruse, my riddling days are past. 

Chor. Look now for no enchanting voice, nor fear 

1034. There is a similar change of numbers to that in this pas* 
faj^e of men, and the singular pronoun, in Par. Lost, ix. 1183. 



382 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

The bait of honied words ; a roughei tongue lOOfi 
Draws hitherward, I know him by his stride, 
The giant Harapha of Gath, his look 
Haughty as is his pile, high-biiilt and proud. 
Conies he in peace ? what wind hath blown him hither 
I less conjecture than when first I saw 1071 

The sumptuous Dalila floating- this way : 
His habit carries peace, his brow defiance. 

Sam. Or peace or not, alike to me he comes. 

Chor. His fraught we soon shall know, he now ar- 
rives. 1075 

Har. I come not, Samson, to condole thy chance^ 
As these perhaps, yet wish it had not been. 
Though for no friendly intent. I am of Gath, 
Men call me Harapha, of stock renown'd 
As Og or Anak, and the Emims old 108& 

That Kiriathaim held ; thou know'st me now 
If thou at all art known. Much I have heard 
Cf thy prodigious might and feats perform'd, 
Incredible to nae, in this displeased. 
That I was never present on the place 1085 

Of those encounters, where we might have tried 
Each other's force in camp or listed field ; 
And now am come to see of whom such noise 
Hath walk'd about, and each limb to survey. 
If thy appearance answer loud report. 1090 

iSam. The way to know were not to see but taste. 

Har. Dost thou already single me ? I thought 
Gyves and the mill had tamed thee. O that Fortune 
Had brought me to the field, where thou art famed 
To have wrought such wonders with an ass's jaw ; 
I should have forced thee soon with other arms, 1095 
Or left thy carcase where the ass lay thrown : 
So had the glory' of prowess been recover'd 
To Palestine, won by a Philistine, 
From the unforeskinn'd race, of whom thou bear'st 
The highest name for valiant acts ; that honour 1101 
Certain to' have won by mortal duel from thee, 

1075. His frmight ; freight is proposed as a better reading. 

1079. Harapha is a fictitious character, but the name was sus^- 
gested to Milton by Arapha or Rapha being- mentioned in Scrip- 
ture as the father of the giants of Rephaim. — See Deut. ii. 10, ' 1. 
iii. 11. Gen, xiv. 5. 

1093. Gyves, fetters or chains. 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 383 

r lose, prevented by thy eyes put out. [but do 

Sam. Boast not of what thou would'st have done, 
What then thou would'st, thou seest it in thy hand. 

Har. To combat with a blind man I disdain, 1106 
And thou hast need much washing- to be touch'd. 

Sam. Such usage as your honourable lords 
Afford me', assassinated and betray'd, 
Who durst not with their whole united powers 1110 
In fight withstand me sing'le and unarm'd, 
Nor in the house with chamber ambushes 
Close-banded durst attack me, no not sleeping", 
Till they had hired a woman with their gold 
Breaking* her marriage faith to circumvent me. 1115 
Therefore, without feign'd shifts let be assign'd 
Some narrow place inclosed, where sight may give 
Or rather flight, no great advantage on me ; [thee, 
Then put on all tliy gorgeous arms, thy helmet 
And brigandine of bi-ass, thy broad habergeon, 1120 
Vant-brass and greves, and gauntlet, add thy spear, 
A weaver's beam, and seven-times folded shield, 
I only with an oaken staff will meet thee, 
And raise such outcries on thy clatter'd iron, 
Which long shall not withhold me from thy head. 
That in a little time, while breath remains thee, 1120 
Thou oft shalt wish thyself at Gath to boast 
Agaiu in safety what thou would'st have done 
To Samson, but shalt never see Gath more. 

liar. Thou durst not thus disparage glorious arms, 
Which greatest heroes have in battle worn, 1131 

Their ornament and safety, had not spells 
And black inchantments, some magician's art, 
Arm'd thee orcharm'd thee strong, which thou from 
Heav'n 1134 

Feign'dst at thy birth was given thee in thy hair, 
Where sti-ength can least abide, though all thy hairs 
Were bristles ranged like those that ridge the back 
Of chafed wild boars, or ruffled porcupines. 

Sum. I know no spells, use no forbidden arts ; 
My trust is in the living God, who gave me 1140 

1120. Brigandine, ?i. coat o^ mm\.-~Habergenn, a covering- of 
mail for the head and shoulders, — Vant-brass or brace, covering 
for the arms; greves, for tlie lears ; gannltet, an iron g-love. 
1138. Shakspcare, Hamlet, Act 1, Sc. 8. 

I c 



384 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

At my nativity this strength, diffused 

No less through all my sinews, joints and bones. 

Than thine, while I preserved these locks unshorn. 

The pledge of my unviolated vow. 

For proof hereof, if Dagon be thy god, 1145 

Go to his temple, invocate his aid 

With solemnest devotion, spread before him 

How highly it concerns his glory now 

To frustrate and dissolve these magic spells. 

Which I to be the power of Israel's God 1150 

Avow, and challenge Dagon to the test. 

Offering to combat thee his champion bold, 

With th' utmost of his godhead seconded : 

Then thou shalt see, or rather to thy sorrow 1154 

Soon feel, whose God is strongest, thine or mine. 

Har. Presume not on thy God, whate'er he be. 
Thee he regards not, owns not, hath cut off 
Quite from his people, and deliver'd up 
Into thy enemies' hand, permitted them 1159 

To put out both thine eyes, and fetter'd send thee 
Into the common prison, there to grind 
Among the slaves and asses thy comrades, 
As good for nothing else, no better service 
With those thy boist'rous locks, no worthy match 
For valour to assail, nor by the sword lloj 

Of noble warrior, so to stain his honour, 
But by the barber's razor best subdued. 

Sam. All these indignities, for such they are 
From thine, these evils I deserve and more. 
Acknowledge them from God inflicted on me 1170 
Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon 
Whose ear is ever open, and his eye 
Gracious to re-admit the suppliant : 
In confidence whereof I once again 
Defy thee to the trial of mortal fight, 1175 

By combat to decide whose God is God, 
Thine or whom I with Israel's sons adore. 

Har. Fair honour that thou dost thy God, intrusting 
He will accept thee to defend his cause, 1179 

A murderer, a revolter, and a robber. [me these X 

Sam. Tongue-doughty Giant, how dost thou prove 

Har. Is not thy nation subject to our lords 1 
Their magistrates confess'd it, when* they took thee 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 385 

As a league-breaker and deliver'd bound 

Into our hands : for hadst thou not committed 1185 

Notorious murder on those thirty men 

At Ascalon, who never did thee harm, 

Then like a robber stripp'dst them of their robes 1 

The Philistines, when thou hadst broke the league. 

Went up with armed pow'rs thee only seeking, 1190 

To others did no violence, nor spoil. 

Sam. Among the daughters of the Philistines 
I chose a wife, which argued me no foe ; 
And in your city held my nuptial feast : 
But your ill-meaning politician loi'ds 1105 

Under pretence of bridal friends and guests. 
Appointed to await me thirty spies, 
Who threat'ning cruel death constrain'd the bride 
To wring from me and tell to them my secret, 
That solved the riddle which I had proposed. 1200 
When I perceived all set on enmity. 
As on my enemies, wherever chanced, 
I used hostility and took their spoil 
To pay my underminers in their coin. 
My nation was subjected to your lords, 1205 

It was the force of conquest ; force with force 
Is well ejected when the conquer'd can. 
But I a private person, whom my country 
As a league-breaker gave up bound, presumed 
Single rebellion and did hostile acts. 1210 

I was no private, but a person raised 
With strength sufficient and command from Heav'n 
To free my country ; if their servile minds 
Me their deliverer sent would not receive, 
But to their masters gave me up for nought, 1215 
Th' unworthier they ; whence to this day they serve. 
■ I was to do my part from Heav'n assign'd, 
And had perform'd it, if my known offence 
Had not disabled me, not all your force : 
These shifts refuted, answer thy appellant, 1220 

Though by his blindness maim'd for high attempts. 
Who now defies thee thrice to single fight, 
As a petty enterprize of small enforce. 

Har. With thee a man condemn'd, a slave enrolVi, 
Due by the law to capital punishment 1 1225 

To fight with thee no man of arms will deign. 



386 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Sam. Camest thou for this, vain boaster, to survey 
To descant on my strength, and g-ive thy verdict % [me, 
Come nearer, part not hence so slight inform'd ; 
But take good heed my hand survey not thee. 1230 

Har. O Baal-zebub ! can my ears unused 
Hear these dishonours, and not render death ? 

Smn. No man withholds thee, nothing from tLy 
Fear 1 incurable ; hring up thy van, [hand 

My heels are fetter'd, but my fist is free. 1235 

Har. This insolence other kind of answer fits. 

Sam. Go baffled coward, lest I run upon thee, 
Though in these chains, bulk without spirit vast. 
And with one buffet lay thy structure low. 
Or swing thee in the air, then dash thee down 1240 
To th' hazard of thy brains and shattered sides. 

Har. By Astaroth, ere long thou shalt lamer>t 
These braveries in irons loaden on thee. 

Chor. His Giantship is gone somewhat crest-fairn, 
Stalking with less unconscionable strides, 1245 

And lower looks, but in a sultry chafe. 

Sain. I dread him not, nor all his giant brood, 
Though fame divulge him father of five sons. 
All of gigantic size, Goliath chief. 

Chor. He will directly to the lords, I fear, 1250 
And with malicious counsel stir them up 
Some way or other yet further to afflict thee. 

Sam. He must allege some cause, and offer'd fight 
Will not dare mention, lest a question rise 
Whether he durst accept th' offer or not, 1255 

And that he durst not plain enough appear'd. 
Much more affliction than already felt 
They cannot well impose, nor I sustain ; 
If they intend advantage of my labours. 
The work of many hands, which earns my keeping 
With no small profit daily to my owners. 1261 

But come what will, my deadliest foe will prove 
My speediest friend, by death to rid me hence. 
The worst that he can give, to me the best. 
Yet so it may fall out, because their end 1265 

Is bate, not help to me, it may with mine 
Draw their own ruin who attempt the deed. 

1C31. Baalzebub, Astaroin, deities of the Philiatineo. 
1846. 1 Sam. XI li ?» Sam. xx. i. 13. 



SAMSON ACONISTES. 387 

Ckor. Oh how comely it is, and how reviving 
To the spirits of just men long- oppressed, 
When God into the hands «f their deliverer 1270 
Puts invincible might 

To quell the mighty of the earth, th' oppressor. 
The brute and boist'rous force of violent men 
Hai-dy and industrious to support 

Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue 1275 

The righteous and all such as honour truth ; 
He all their ammunition 
And feats of war defeats 
With plain heroic magnitude of mind 
And celestial vigour arm'd ; 1280 

Their armories and magazines contemns, 
Renders them useless, while 
With winged expedition 
Swift as the lightning glance he executes 
His errand on the wicked, who surprised 1285 

Lose their defence distracted and amazed. 

But patience is more oft the exercise 
Of saints, the trial of their fortitude. 
Making them each his own deliverer, 
And victor over all 1290 

That Tyranny or Fortune can inflict. 
Eitlier of these is in thy lot, 
Samson, with might endued 
Above the sons of men ; but sight bereaved 
May chance to number thee with those 1295 

Whom patience finally must crown. 

This idol's day hath been to thee no day of rest, 
Labouring thy mind 
More than the working day thy hands. 
And yet perhaps more troxible is behind, 1300 

For I descry this way 
Some other tending, in his hand 
A sceptre or quaint staff he bears, 
Comes on amain, speed in his look. 
By his habit I discern him now 1305 

A public oflicer, and now at hand. 
His message will be short and voluble. 

Of. Hebrews, the prisoner Samson here I seek. 

Chor. His manacles remark him, there he sits. 

Of. Samson, tp thee our lords thus bid me say : 



388 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

''^his day to Dag'on is a solemn feast, 1311 

With sacrifices, triumph, pomp, and games; 
Tliy streng'th they know surpassinfj human rate, 
-And now some public proof thereof require 
To honour this g-reat feast, and great assembly ; 1315 
Rise therefore with all speed and come along, 
Where I will see thee hearten'd and fresh clad 
To' appear as fits before th' illustrious lords. 

Sam. Thou knov/'st I am an Hebrew, therefore 
tell them 
Our law forbids at their religious rites 1320 

My presence, for that cause I cannot come. 

Of. This answer, be assured, will not content them. 

Sam. Have they not sword-players, and every sort 
Of gyranic artists, wrestlers, riders, runners, 
Jugglers and dancers, antics, mummers, mimics, 1325 
But they must pick me out with shackles tired, 
And over-labour'd at their public mill 
To make them sport with blind activity ? 
Do they not seek occasion of new quarrels 
On my refusal to distress me raoi-e, 1330 

Or make a game of my calamities 1 
Return the way thou cam'st, I will not come. 

Of. Regard thyself, this will olTend them highly. 

Sairi. Myself? my conscience and internal peace. 
Can they think me so broken, so debased 1335 

With corporal servitude, that my mind ever 
Will condescend to such absurd commands? 
Although their drudge, to be their fool or jester. 
And in my midst of sorrow and heart-grief 
To shew them feats, and play before their god, 1340 
The worst of ail indignities, yet on me 
Join'd with extreme contempt ? T will not come. 

Of My message was imposed on me with speed. 
Brooks no dela^- ; is this thy resolution? 1344 

Sam. So take it with v/hat speed thy message needs. 

Of I am sorry what this stoutness v^dll produce. 

Sam. Perhaps thou shalt have cause to sorrow 
indeed. 

Chor. Consider, Samson, matters now are strain'd 
Up to the highth, whether to hold or break ; 
He's gone, and who knows how he may report 1350 
Thy words by adding fuel to the flame I 



SAMSON AGONISTES. JjSO 

Expect another inessage more imperious. 

More lordly thund'ring- than thou well wilt bear. 

Sam. Shall I abuse this consecrated gift 
Of strength, again returning with my hair 1355 

After my great transgression, so requite 
Favour renew'd, and add a greater sin 
By prostituting holy things to idols ; 
A Nazarite in place abominable 

Vaunting my strength in honour to their Dagon ? 1360 
Besides, how vile, contemptible, ridiculous. 
What act more execrably unclean, profane ? 

Chor. Yet with this strength thou serv'st the Phi- 
Idolatrous, xincircumcised, unclean. [listines, 

Sam. Not in their idol-worship, but by labour 1365 
Honest and lawful to deserve my food 
Of those v/ho have me in their civil power. [not. 

Chor. Where the heart joins not, outward acts defile 

Sam. Where outward force constrains, the sentence 
But who constrains me to the temple of Dagon, [holds ; 
Not dragging? the Philistian lords command. 137J 
Commands are no constraints. If I obey them, 
I do it freely, vent'ring to displease 
God for the fear of man, and man prefer, 
Set God behind : which in his jealousy 1376 

Shall never, unrepented, find forgiveness. 
Yet that he may dispense witb me or thee 
Present in temples at idolatrous rites 
For some important cause, thou need'st not doubt. 

Chor. How thou wilt here come off surmounts my 

Satn. Be of good courage, I begin to feel [reach. 
Some rousing motions in me which dispose 
To something extraordinary my thoughts. 
I with this messenger will go along, 
.Nothing to do, be sure, that may dishonour 1385 

Our law, or stain my vow of Nazarite. 
If there be aught of presage in the mind. 
This day will be remarkable in my life 
By some great act, or of my days the last. 1389 

Chor. In time thou hast resolved, the man returns. 

1377. It is not here intended to be said that God suffers any of 
his creatures to share in the worship of idols, but that, for sonif 
important purpose, he may permit them to enter temples devoted 
to the false gods, whose blind votaries he intends to punish by 
tlieir means. 



S90 SAMSON AGONLSTEb. 

OJi. Samson, this second messag-e from our lords 
To thee I am hid say. Art thou our slave, 
Our captive, at the public mill our drudge. 
And dar'st thou at our sending and command 
Dispute thy coming ? come without delay ; 1353 

Or we shall find such engines to assail 
And hamper thee, as thou shalt come of force. 
Though thou wert firmlier fasten'd than a rock. 

Sam. I could he well content to try their art 
Which to no few of them would prove pernicious. 
Yet knowing their advantages too many, 1401 

Because they shall not trail me through their streets 
Like a wild beast, I am content to go. 
Masters' commands come with a power resistless 
To such as owe them absolute subjection : 1405 

And for a life who will not change his purpose 
(So mutable are all the ways of men) ? 
Yet this be sure, in nothing to comply 
Scandalous or forbidden in our law. 

Of. I praise thy resolution : doff these links : 1410 
By this compliance thou wilt win the lords 
To favour, and perhaps to set thee free. 

Sam. Brethren, farewell; your company along 
1 will not wish, lest it perhaps offend them 
To see me girt with friends ; and how the sight 1415 
Of me as of a common enemy. 
So dreaded once, may now exasperate them, 
I know not : lords are lordliest in their wine ; 
And the well-feasted priest then soonest fired 
With zeal, if aught religion seem concern'd ; 1420 
No less the people on their holy-da3S 
Impetuous, insolent, unquenchable : 
Happen what may, of me expect to hear 
Nothing dishonourable, impure, unworthy 
Our God, our lav/, my nation, or myself, 1425 

The last of me or no I cannot warrant. 

Clior. Go, and the Holy One 
Of Israel be thy guide 

To what may serve his glory best, and spread his 
Great among the Hea^'hen round; [name 

Send thee the angel of thy birth to stand 1431 

Fast by thy side, Avho from thy father's field 
Rode up in flames after his message told 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 391 

Of thy conception, and be now a shield 
Of fire ; that Spirit that first rush'd on thee 1435 
In the camp of Dan 
Be efficacious in thee now at need. 
For never was from Heav'n imparted 
Measure of strength so great to mortal seed. 
As in thy wondrous actions hath been seen. 1440 

But wherefore comes old Manoah in such haste 
With youthful steps'? much livelier than erewhile 
He soems : supposing- here to find his son, 
Or of him bringing to us some glad news ? 1444 

Man. Peace with you, brethren ; my inducement 
Was not at present here to find my son, [hither 

By order of the lords new parted hence 
To come and play before them at their feast. 
I heard all as I came, the city rings. 
And numbers thither flock, I had no will, 1450 

Lest I should see him forced to things imseemly. 
But that which moved my coming now was chiefly 
To give ye part with me what hope I. have 
With good success to work his liberty. 1454 

Chor. That hope would much rejoice us to partake 
With thee ; say, rev'rend Sire, we thirst to hear. 

Man. I have attempted one by one the lords 
Either at home, or through the high street passing. 
With supplication prone and father's tears. 
To' accept of ransom for my son their prisoner. 14G0 
Some much averse I found and Avondrous harsh. 
Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite ; 
That part most reverenced Dagon and his priests : 
Others more moderate seeming, but their aim 
Private reward, for which both God and state 1465 
They easily would set to sale : a third 
, More g-enerous far and civil, who confess'd 
They had enough revenged, having reduced 
Their foe to misery beneath their fears, 
The rest was magnanimity to remit, 1470 

If some convenient ransom were pi'oposed. — 
What noise or shout was that 1 it tore the sky. 

Chor. Doubtless the people shouting to behold 
Their once great dread, captive and blind before them. 
Or at some proof of strength before them shewn. 1476 

Man. Hi* ransom, if my whole inheritance 
May compass it, shall willina-lybe paid 



302 SAMSON AGONTST^S. 

And number'd down : much rather I shall choose 
To live the poorest in my tribe, than richest. 
And he in that calamitous prison left. 14S0 

No, I am fix'd not to part hence without him. 
For his redemption all my patrimony. 
If need be, I am ready to forego 
And quit : not wanting- him I shall want nothing. 
Char, Fathers are wont to lay up for their sons, 
Thou for thy son art bent to lay out all : 1486 

Sons wont to nurse their parents in old age, 
Thou in old age car'st how to nurse thy son, 
Made older than thy age through eye-sight lost. 

Man, It shall be my delight to tend his eyes, 1490 
And view him sitting in the hoase, ennobled 
With all those high exploits by him achieved. 
And on his shoulders waving down those locks 
That of a nation arm'd the strength contain'd : 
And I persuade me God had not permitted 1495 

His strength again to grow up with his hair, 
Garrison'd round about him like a camp 
Of faithful soldiery, were not his purpose 
To use him further yet in some great service ; 
Not to sit idle with so great a gift 1500 

Useless, and thence ridiculous about him. 
And since his strength with eye-sight was not lost, 
God will restore him eye-sight to his strength. 

Chor. Thy hopes are not ill-founded nor seem vain 
Of his delivery, and thy joy thereon 1505 

Conceived agreeable to a father's love. 
In both which we, as next, participate. [noise ! 

Man. I know your friendly minds and — O what 
Mercy of Heav'n, what hideous noise was that? 
Horribly loud, unlike the former shout. 1510 

Chor. Noise call you it or universal groan. 
As if the whole inhabitation perish 'd! 
Blood, death, and deathful deeds, are in that noise, 
Ruin, destruction at the utmost point. 

Man. Of ruin indeed methought I heard the noise : 
Oh it continues, they have slain my son. 1516 

Chor. Thy son is rather slaying them, that outcry 
From slaughter of one foe could not ascend. 

Man. Some dismal accident it needs must be ; 
What shall we do, stay here or run and see 1 1520 
Chor, Best keep together here, lest running: thither 



SAMSON AGOxNlSTES. 393 

We unawares run iiUo Danger's mouth. 

This evil on the Philistines is fallen ; 

From v/hom could else a general cry be heard t 

The sufferers then Avill scarce molest us here, 1525 

From other lands we need not much to fear. 

What if his eye-sight (for to Israel's God 

Nothing is hard) by miracle restored, 

He now be dealing dole among his foes. 

And over heaps of slaughter'd walk his way ? 1530 

Man. That were a joy presumptuous to be thought. 

Chor. Yet God hath wrought things as incredible 
For his people of old : what hinders now % 

Man. He can I know, but doubt to think he will ; 
Yet hope would fain subscribe, and tempts belief, 
A little stay will bring some notice hither. 153S 

Chor. Of good or bad so great, of bad the sooner ; 
For evil news rides post, while good news baits. 
And to our wish I see one hither speeding. 
An Hebrew, as I guess, and of our tribe. 154C 

Mes. O whither shall I run, or which way fly 
The sight of this so hoi-rid spectacle. 
Which erst my eyes beheld and yet behold 1 
For dire imagination still pursues me. 
But Providence or instinct of nature seems, 1545 
Or reason though disturb'd, and scarce consulted. 
To' have guided me aright, I know not how, 
To thee first, reverend Manoah, and to these 
My countrymen, whom here I knew remaining. 
As at some distance from the place of horror, 1550 
Though in the sad event too much concern'd. 

Man. The accident was loud, and here before thee 
With rueful cry, yet what it was we hear not; 
No preface needs, thou seest we long to know. 

Mes. It would burst forth, but I recover breath 
And sense distract, to know well what I utter. 1553 

Man. Tell us the sum, the circumstance defer. 

Mes. Gaza yet stands, but all her sons are falle/i, 
All in a moment overwhelm'd and fallen. 

Man. Sad, bat thou know'st to Israelites not saddest 
The desolation of a hostile city. 1531 

Mes. Feed on that first, there may in grief be svir- 

Man. Relate by whom. [feit. 

Mes. By Samson. 

1556. Distract , used also as an adjective by Shakspeare. 
S2 



394 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Man. That still lesseiig 

The sorrow, and converts it nigh to joy. 

Mes. Ah, Manoah, I refrain too suddenly 15G5 

To utter what will come at last too soon ; 
Lest evil tidings with too rude irruption 
Hitting- thy ag-ed ear should pierce too deep, 

Man. Suspense in news is torture, speak them out. 

Mes. Take then the worst in brief, Samson is dead. 

Man. The worst indeed, O all my hope's defeated 
To free him hence ! but Death wlio sets all free 
Hath paid his ransom now and fall discharge. 
What windy joy this day had I conceived 
Hopeful of his delivery, which now proves 1575 

Abortive as the first-born bloom of Spring- 
Nipt with the lag'g-ing rear of winter's frost ! 
Yet ere I give the reins to gTief, say first 
How died he ; death to life is crown or shame. 
All by him fell thou say'st, by whom fell he, 1580 
What glorious hand gave Samson his death's wound ? 

3Ies. Un wounded of his enemies he fell. 

Man. Wearied with slaughter then, or how? ex- 

Mes. By his own hands. [plain. 

Man. Self-violence ? what cause 

Brought him so soon at variance with himself 1585 
Among- his foes 1 

3Ies. Inevitable cause 

At once both to destroy and be destroy'd; 
The edifice, where all were met to see him. 
Upon their heads and on his own he puU'd. 

Man. O lastly over-strong- against thyself I 1590 
A dreadful way thou took'st to thy revenj^e. 
More than enough we know; but while thing-s yet 
Are in confusion, give us if thou canst, 
Eye-witness of what first or last was done. 
Relation more pai-ticular and distinct. 1595 

Mes. Occasions drew me early to this city, 
And as the gates I enter'd with sun-rise. 
The morning trumpets festival proclaim 'd 
Through each high-street : little I had dispatch'd. 
When all abroad was rumour'd that this day 1600 
Samson should be brought forth to shew the people 
Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games ; 
I sorrow'd at his captive state, but minded 
Not to be absent at that spectacle. 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 395 

The building- was a spacious theatre 1005 

Half-round on two main pillars vaulted high, 

With seats where all the lords, and each degree 

Of sort, might sit in order to behold ; 

The other side was open, where the throng 

On banks and scalToidi;, under sky might stand ; 1610 

I among these aloof obscurely stood. 

The feast and noon grew high, and sacrifice [wine, 

Had fiU'd their hearts with mirth, high cheer, and 

When to their sports they turn'd. Immediately 

Was Samson as a pviblic servant brought, 1615 

In their state livery clad ; before him pipes 

And timbrels, on each side went armed guards, 

Both horse and foot, before him and behind 

Archers, and slingers, cataphracts and spears. 

At sight of hitn the people with a shout 1620 

Rifted the air, clamouring their god with praise. 

Who' had made their dreadful enemy their thrall. 

He patient but undaunted where they led him, 

Came to the place, and what was set before him, 

Which without help of eye might be assay'd 1625 

To heave, pull, draw, or break, he still perform'd 

All with incredible, stupendous force, 

None daring to appear antagonist. 

At length for intermission sake they led him 

Between the pillars ; he his guide requested 1630 

(For so from such as nearer stood we heard) 

As over-tired to let him lean a while 

With both his arms on those two massy pillars. 

That to the arched roof gave main support. 

He unsuspicious led him ; which when Samson 1036 

Felt in his arms, with head a while inclined. 

And eyes fast lix'd, he stood, as one who pray'd. 

Or some great matter in his mind revolved : 

At last with head erect thus cry'd aloud, 

* Hitherto, Lords, what your commands imposed 1640 

I have perform'd, as reason was, obeying. 

Not without wonder or delight beheld : 

1603. Buildings are mentioned by Pliny the naturalist which 
were supported only by one pillar, and Dr. Shaw says in hit 
Travels, that the eastern theatres are built in the form of an ad- 
vanced cloister or penthouse, supported by one or two pillars ir> 
the front or centre. Supposing-, therefore, that the house of Dag-on 
was built, as is most probable, in tliis manner, the destruction 
which followed the exertion of Samson's streng-th was inevitable. 
1619 Cataphracts, me!; pr horses completely armed. 



Sli6 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Now of my own accord such other trial 
I mean to shew you of my strength, yet greater; 
As with amaze shall strike all who hehold.* 1645 

This utter'd, straining- all his nerves he how'd. 
As with the force of winds and w^aters pent 
When mountains tremble, those two miassy pillariS 
With horrible convulsion to and fro 1649 

He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew 
The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder 
Upon the heads of all who sat beneath, 
Lords, ladies, captains, counsellors, or priests, 
Their choice nobility and flower, not only 
Of this, but each Philistian city round, 1655 

Met from all parts to solemnize this feast. 
Samson with these immix'd, inevitably 
PuU'd down the same destruction on himself; 
The vulgar only 'scaped who stood without. 

Chor. dearly-bought revenge, yet glorious! 1660 
Living- or dying thou hast fulfill'd 
The woT-k for which thou wast foretold 
To Israel, and now ly'st victorious 
Among thy slain self-kill'd. 

Not willingly, but tangled in the fold 1665 

Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoin'd 
Thee with thy slaughter'd foes, in number more 
Than all thy life hath slain before. [sublime, 

1 Sejnichor. W^hile their hearts were jocund and 
Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine, 1670 

And fat regorged of bulls and goats, 
Chaunting their idol, and preferring 
Before our living Dread who dwells 
In Silo, his bright sanctuary ; 

Among them he a spirit of frenzy sent, 167.5 

Who hurt their minds. 
And urged them on with mad desire 
To call in haste for their destroyer ; 
They only set on sport and play 

Unweetingly importuned 1680 

Their own destruction to come speedy upon them. 
So fond are mortal men 
Fallen into wrath divine. 
As their own ruin on themselves to* invite, 

1667. Judg-. xvi. 30. 
1674. Si/v, tlie tabernacle and ark were there ut thi3 t^ije 



SAMSON AGOIJISTES. 397 

Insensate left, or to sense reprobate, 1685 

And with blindness internal struck. 

2 Semichor. But he, though blind of sight> 
Despised and thoug-ht exting-uish'd quite 
With inward eyes illuminated, 

His fiery virtue roused 1091) 

From under ashes into sudden flame, 
And as an eveniiig dragon came. 
Assailant on the perched roosts. 
And nests in order ranged 

Of tame villatic fowl; but as an eag-le 1695 

His cloudless thunder bolted on their heads. 
So virtue g'iven for lost, 
Depress'd, and overthrown, as seem'd, 
Like that self-begotten bird 

In the Arabian woods imbost, 1700 

That no second knows nor third, 
And lay ere while a holocaust, 
Fi'om out her ashy womb now teem'd, 
Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most 
When most unactive deem'd, 1705 

^.\\A. though her body die, her fame sui'vives 
A secular bird ages of lives. 

Man. Come, come, no time for lamentation now. 
Nor much more cause ; Samson hath quit himself 
Like Samson, and heroicly hath finish'd 1710 

A life heroic, on his enemies 

Fully revenged, hath left them years of mourning. 
And lamentation to the sons of Caphtor 
Through all Philistian bounds, to Israel 
Honour hath left, and freedom, let but them 1715 
Find courage to lay hold on this occasion ; 
To himself and father's house eternal fame. 
And, which is best and happiest yet, all this 
With God not parted from him, as was fear'd. 
But favouring and assisting to the end. 1720 

Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail 
Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt. 
Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair 

1695. ViUattc, domestic, from the Latin Villa. 

1700. Imbost, embowered or concealed, from the Ftalian word 
imboscaref I conjecture. — Spenser uses it. Faery Queen, B. 1. 
Can. 3. St. 24. 

1713. Sons of Caphtor, Philistines from the island of Caphtor, 
who settled in Palestine. 



39$ SAMSON AGONISTES. 

And what may quiet us in a death so noble. 

Let us go find the body where it lies 1725 

Soak'd in his enemies' blood, and from the stream 

With layers pure and cleansing- herbs wash off 

The clotted gore. I vrith what speed the while 

(Gaza is not in plight to say us nay) 

Will send for all my kindred, all my friends, 1730 

To fetch him hence, and solemnly attend 

With silent obsequN^ and funeral train 

Home to his father's house : there will I build him 

A monument, and plant it round with shade 

Of laurel ever green, and branching- palm, 1735 

With all his trophies hung, and acts inroU'd 

In copious legend, or sv/eet lyric song*. 

Thither shall all the valiant youth resort, 

And from his memory inflame their breasts 

To matchless valour, and adventures high : 1740 

The virgins also shall on feastful days 

Visit his tomb with flow'rs, only bewailing' 

His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice. 

From whence captivity and loss of eyes. 

Chor. All is best, though v/e oft doubt 1745 

What th' unsearchable dispose 
Of highest Wisdom brings about. 
And ever best found in the close. 
Oft he seems to hide his face. 

But unexpectedly returns, 1750 

And to his faithful champion hath in place 
Bore witness gloriously ; whence Gaza mourns 
And all that band them to resist 
His uncontrollable intent .; 

His servants he with new acquist 1755 

Of true experience, from this great event. 
With peace and consolation hath dismist. 
And calm of mind, all passions spent. 

1730. This circumstance is founded on Judg'. xvi. 31. 

To the lovers of the classical drama, Samson Ag-onistes is full 
of beauty ; its regularity, the clearness and solemnity of its dic- 
tion, the" pathos of Manoah's character, and the well-sustained 
Feverity of Samson's, are all calculated to secure their admira- 
tion. But it is not the g-enerality of readers who can see beauty 
in propriety, or feel sympathy with a passion which is more 
etrong than 'vehement ; and to these tliis poem will always fail of 
jLiiterest. 



C O M U S, 

A MASK : 

Presented at Ludloio Castle, 1634, hefore the Eurl 
of Bridgewater, then President of Wales. 

THE PERSONS. 

The attendant Spirit, | The Lady, 

afterwards in the habit ] First Brother. 

of Thyrsi.-,. I Second Brother, 

Comus with liis crew. | Sabrina, the Nymph. 

The chief perbons who presented were. 

The Lord Brackley. 

Mr. Thom^is Eg-erton, liis brother. 

The Lady Alice Egerton. 

The first Scene discovers a wild wood. 

The attendant Spirit descends or enters. 

Before the starry threshold of Jove's court 

My mansion is, where those immortal shapes 

Of bright aerial Spirits live insphered 

In regions mild of calm and serene air. 

Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot, 5 

Which men call Earth, and with low-thoughted care 

Confined, and pester'd in this pin-fold here. 

Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being-, 

Unmindful of the crown that Virtue gives 

After this mortal change to her true servants '^ 

Among-st the enthroned Gods on sainted seats. 

Yet some there be that by due steps aspire 

1. Thispxquisite little drama is, next to Paradise Lost, ti e rro- 
splendid offsprins: of Milton's ffenins. Never were the Jr'eliest 
graces of natural description more felioitouslv employed, cnr the 
union of what ii beautiful in the moral and imaginative of poetry 
wore comulcte. 

2D 



400 COMUS. 

To lay their just hands on that golden key 

That opes the palace of Eternity : 

To such nay errand is : and hut for such, 15 

1 would not soil these pure ambrosial weeds 

With the rank vapours of this sin-worn mould. 

But to my task. Neptune, besides the sway 
Of every salt flood, and each ebbing stream, 
Took in by lot 'twixt high and nether Jove 20 

Imperial rule of all the sea-girt isles. 
That like to rich and various gems inlay 
The unadorned bosom of tlie deep. 
Which he to grace his tributary gods 
By course commits to several go\ernment, 25 

And gives them leave to wear their sapphire crowns, 
And wield their little tridents : but this isle. 
The greatest and the best of all the main. 
He quarters to his blue-hair'd deities ; 
And all this tract that fronts the falling sun 30 

A noble peer of mickle trust and power 
Has in his charge, with temper'd awe to guide 
An old and haughty nation proud in arms : 
Where his fair offspring nursed in princely lore 
Ai-e coming to attend their father's state, 35 

And new intrusted sceptre ; but their way 
Lies through the perplex'd paths of this drear wood» 
The nodding horror of whose shady brows 
1-ireats the foi-loi-n and wand'ring passenger; 
And here their tender age might suffer peril, 40 

But that by quick command from sovereigTi Jove 
I was dispatch'd for their defence and guard ; 
And listen why, for 1 will tell you now 
What never yet was heard in tale or song. 
From old or modern bard, in hall or bower. 45 

Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape 
Crush'd the sweet poison of mis-used wine, 
After the Tuscan mariners transfoi'm'd, 
Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed, 
On Circe's island fell : (who knows not Circe 50 

The daughter of the Sun? whose charmed cup 

48. The Tuscan Mariners ; they were transformed by Bacchus, 
whom they had ang-ered, into ships and dolphins. — See Ovid, 
Met. iii. 8. The story of Circe and her transformations is well 
Kuown. — Homer, Odyss. x. 



COMUS. 401 

Whoever tasted, lost his upright shape, 
And downward fell into a gTovelling- sv/ine :) 
This nymph, that gazed upon his clust'ving locks. 
With ivy berries wreath'd, and his blithe yooith, 55 
Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son 
-^uch like his father, but his mother more, 
Whom therefore she brought iip, and Com us named ; 
Who ripe, and frolic of his full grown age, 
Roving- the Celtic and Iberian held, 60 

At last betakes him to this ominous wood. 
And in thick shelter of black shades imbower'd 
Excels his mother at her mighty art, 
Offering' to every weary traveller 64 

His orient liquor in a crystal glass, [taste 

To quench the drought of Phoebus, which as they 
(For most do taste through fond intemp'rate thirst) 
Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance, 
Th' express resemblance of the g'ods, is rhanged 
Into some brutish form of wolf, or bear, 70 

Or ounce, or tiger, hog, or bearded g'oat. 
All other parts remaining- as they were ; 
And they, so perfect is their miser}', 
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement. 
But boast themselves move comely than before, 75 
And all their friends and native home forget, 
To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty. 
Therefore v^hen any favour'd of high Jove 
Chances to pass through this advent'rous glade, 
/'Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star / 80 

I shoot from heav'n, to give him safe convoy, 
As now I do : but first I must put ofi 
These my sky robes spun out of Iris woof. 
And take the weeds and likeness of a swain, 
That to the service of this house belongs, 85 

Who, with his soft pipe, and smooth-dittied song. 
Well knows to still the wild winds when they roar. 
And hush the waving woods, nor of less faith. 
And in this office of his mountain watch. 
Likeliest, and nearest to the present aid 99 

Of this occasion. But I hear the tread 
Of hateful steps. I must be viewless now. 

60. Celtic and Iberian field ; France and Spain, 
83. Par. Lost, xi. 274. 



402 COMUS. 

Cotnus enters with a charming rod in one hand, his 
glass in the other ; ivith him a rout of monsters, 
headed like sundry sorts of wild beasts, but other- 
wise like men and women, their apparel glittering ; 
they come in making a riotous and unruly noise, 
with torches in their hands. 

Com. The star that bids the shepherd fold. 
Now the top of Heav'ii doth hold, 
And the g-ilded car of Day, 95 

His glowing- axle doth allay 
In the steep Atlantic stream, 
And the slope Sun his upward beam 
Shoots ag'ainst the dusky pole, 

Pacing- toward the other g'oal 100 

Of his chamber in the East. 
Meanwhile welcome Joy and Feast, 
Midniglit Shout and Revelry, 
Tipsy Dance, and Jollity, 

Braid your locks with rosy twine, 105 

Dropping odoui's, dropping wine. 
Rigour now is gone to bed. 
And Advice with scrupulous head. 
Strict Age and sour Severity 

With their grave saws in slumber lie. 110 

V/e that are of purer fire 
Imitate the starry quire, 
Who in their nightly watchful spheres. 
Lead in swift round the months and years. 
The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove, 115 
Now to the moon in v/avering morrice move ; 
And on the tav/ny sands and shelves 
Trip the pert faeries and the dapper elves. 
By dimpled brook and fountain brim, 
The wood-nymphs deok'd with daisies trim, 120 

Their merry wakes and pastimes keep : 

„.— ^' 

93. It would be impossible, perbaps, to find a niore exquisite 
piece of iimsical versification tiian the following-. The beauty and 
variety of the imag-ery are equally unsurpassed. 

lOS. It would be useless to point out the many trifling' altera- 
tions which appear in the nianuscript and first "editions of this 
poem ; a few, however, are worth observing, and among then;, 
that of this line, which originally stood — 

And quick law with her scrupulovs head. 
117. Tawmj ; originally, yf^Zi)?^. 




Trap the pert faeries -and the dapper elves. 
Ey clmiplecl Lrook snA foLmtaxn. liuTni, 
me wood-n.yin-p]i-S , deci'cl "with daisjr- 
Their merry l^^a"kes and pasliin 



COMUS. 403 

What hath nig'ht to do with sleep? 

Niu,ht hath better sweets to prove, 

Venus now wakes, and wakens Love. 

Come let us our rites begin, 125 

'Tis only day-light that makes sin. 

Which these dun shades will ne'er report. 

Hail Goddess of nocturnal sport, 

Dark-veil'd Gotytto, t' whom the secret flame 

Of midnight torches bums ; mysterious dame, 130 

That ne'er art call'd, but when the dragon womb 

Of St5-gian darkness spits her thickest gloom, 

And makes one blot of all the air. 

Stay thy cloudy ebon chair. 

Wherein thou rid'st with Hecat', and befriend 133 

Us thy vow'd priests, till utmost end 

Of all thy dues be done, and none left out 

Ere the blabbing eastern scout, 

The nice ]\roni on the Indian steep 

From her cabind loop-hole peep, 140 

And to the tell-tale Sun descry 

Our conceal 'd solemnity. 

Come, knit hands, and beat the ground 

In a light fantastic round. 

The Pleasure. 
Break off, break off, I feel the different pace 145 

Of some chaste footing near about this ground. 
Run to your shrouds, within these brakes and trees; 
Our number may affright : some virgin sure 
(For so I can distinguish by mine art) 
Benighted in these woods. Now to my charms, 150 
And to my wily trains ; I shall ere long 
Be well stock'd with as fair a herd as grazed 
About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl 
My dazzling spells into the spung-y air. 
Of power to cheat the e^e with blear illusion, 155 
And give it false presentments, lest the place 
And my quaint habits breed astonishment. 
And put the damsel to suspicious flight, 
^\ hich must not be, for that 's against my course ; 
I under fair pretence of friendly ends, 160 

120. Cotytto; the goddess of licentioiis pleasure^:. 
4i. Tell-tale; discovering' the secrets of the iiighu 



404 COMU'J. 

And well-placed words of glozing" courtecy 

Baited with reasons not implausible, 

Wind me into the easy-hearted man, 

And hug' him into snares. When once her eye 

Hath met the virtue of this magic dust, 165 

1 shall appear some harmless villager 

Whom thrift keeps up about his country g-ear. 

But here she comes, I fairly step aside, 

And hearken, if I may, her business here. 

The Lady enters. 
This way the noise was, if mine ear be true, 170 

My best g-uide nov/ ; methought it v/as the sound 
Of riot and ill-managed merriment. 
Such as the jocund flute or gamesome pipe 
Stirs up among- the loose unletter'd hinds, 
When for their teeming flocks, and grang-es full, 175 
In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan, 
And thank the Gods amiss. I should be loath 
To meet the mdeness and swill'd insolence 
Of such late wassailers; yet O where else 
Shall I inform my unacquainted feet 180 

In the blind mazes of this tangled wood 1 
My brothers, when they saw me wearied out 
With this long way, resolving here to lodge 
Under the spreading favour of these pines, 
Stept, as they said, to the next thicket side 185 

To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit 
As the kind hospitable woods provide. 
They left me then, when the grey-hooded Even 
Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed, 
Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain. 190 
But where they are, and why they came not back. 
Is nov/ the labour of my thought ; 'tis likeliest 
They had engaged their wand'ring steps too far, 
And envious Darkness, ere they could return. 
Had stole them from me : else, O thievish Night, 19o 
Why should'st thou, but for some felonioiis end, 
In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars. 
That Nature hung in Heav'n, and fill'd their lamps 
With everlasting oil, to give due light 

181. Ori^nally, 

In the blind alleys of this arched wood. 



COM us. 



405 
200 



205 



To the misled and lonely traveller? 

This is the place, as well as I may guess, 

Whence even now the tumult of loud Mirth 

Was rife, and perfect in my listening ear. 

Yet nought but single darkness do T find. 

What mig'lit this be 'I A thousand fantasies 

Begin to throng- into my memory, 

Of calling- shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire. 

And aery tongues, that syllable men's names 

On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses. 

These thoughts may startle well, but not astound 210 

The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended 

By a strong siding chanapion, Conscience. — 

welcome pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope, 
Thou hovering angel gii-t with golden wings, 

And thou xinblemish'd form of Chastity ; 215 

1 see ye visik>ly, and now believe 

That he, the Supreme Good, t' whom all things ill 
Are but as slavish officers of vengeance. 
Would send a glist'ring guardian if need were 
To keep my life and honour unassail'd. 
CvVas I deceived, or did a sable cloud 
Turn forth her silver lining on the night? 
I did not err, there does a sable cloud 
Turn forth her silver lining on the night. 
And casts a gleam over this tufted grove. 
I cannot hallow to my brothers, btit 
Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest 
I'll venture, for my new enliven'd spirits 
Prompt me ; and they perhaps are not far off. 



220 



225 



Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen 230 
Within thy aery shell, 
By slow Meander's margent green. 
And in the violet-embroider'd vale, 

Where the love-lorn nightingale 
Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well ; 235 
Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair 
That likest thy Narcissus are ? 

208. This beautiful expression was not at first written. The 
line was, Tliat lure night-wanderers, 

226. This is a very ing-enious invention to introduce the bcaufl 
ful sonfj which follows. 



406 COMUS. 

O if thou liave 
Hid them in some flow'ry cave. 

Tell me but where, 240 

Sweet queen of parly, daughter of the sphere ; 
So niay'st thou be translated to the skies, 
And give resounding' grace to all Heav'n's harmonies. 

Com. Can any mortal mixture of Earth's mould 
Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment 1 245 
Sure something holy lodges in that breast. 
And with these raptures moves the vocal Air 
To testify his hidden residence : 
How sweetly did they float upon the wings 
Of silence, through the empty-vaulted Ni_,ht, 250 
At ev'ry fall smoothing the raven down 
Of Darkness till it smiled ! I have oft heard 
My mother Circe with the Sirens three, 
Amidst the flow'ry-kirtled Naiades 
Culling their potent herbs, and baleful drugs, 255 
Who, as they sung, would take the prison 'd soul. 
And lap it in Elysium ; Scylla wept. 
And chid her barking waves into attention. 
And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause : 
Yet they in peaceful slumber luU'd the sense, 260 
And in sweet madness robb'd it of itself; 
But such a sacred and home-felt delight, 
Such sober certainty of waking bliss, 
I never heard till now. I'll speak to her. 
And she shall be my queen. Hail foreign wonder, 2S5 
Whom certain these rough shades did never breed. 
Unless the goddess that in rural shrine 
Dwell'st here with Pan, or Sylvan, by blest song- 
Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog 
To touch the prosp'rous growth of this tall wood. 270 

La. Nay, gentle Shepherd, ill is lost that praise 
That is address'd to unattending ears ; 
Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift 
How to regain my sever'd company, 
Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo 275 

To give me answer from her mossy couch. 

Com. What chance, good Lady, hath bereft you thus T 

J54. This and the following verse were added by Milton to the 
original copy, ana inserted in the margin. 



COMUS 407 

La. Dim darkne^■s, and this leafy labyrinth. 
Com. Could that divide you from near-ushering 
La. They left me weary on a grassy turf, [guides! 
Com. By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why? 281 
La. To seek i' th' valley some cool friendly spring-. 
Com And left your fair side all ung-uarded, Lady'? 
La. They were but twain, and purposed quick re- 
turn. 
Com. Perhaps forestalling Night prevented them. 
La. How easy my misfortune is to hit ! 286 

Com^. ImpoT'ts their loss, beside the present need \ 
La. No less than if I should my brothers lose. 
Com. Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom ? 
La. As smooth as Hebe's their unrazor'd lips. 290 
Com. Two such I saw, what time the labour'd ox 
[n his loose traces from the furrow came, 
And the swinkt hedger at his supper sat ; 
I saw them under a green mantling* vine 
That crawls along the side of yon small hill, 295 
Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots ; 
Their port was more than human, as they stood : 
1 took it for a faery vision 
Of some gay creatures of the element, 
That in the colours of the rain-bow live, 300 

And play i' th' plighted clouds. I was awe-struck. 
And as I pass'd, I worshipp'd ; if those you seek. 
It were a journey like the path to Heav'n, 
To help you find them. 

I^a. Gentle Villager, 

What readiest way would bring me to that place ? 
Com. Due west it rises from this shnibby point. 306 
La. To find out that, good Shepherd, I suppose 
In such a scant allowance of star-light. 
Would overtask the best land-pilot's art, 
Without the sure guess of well-practised feet. 310 
/ Com. I know each lane, and every alley green, 
/Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wild wood, 
And every bosky bourn from side t© side. 
My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood; 
And if your stray-attendants be yet lodged, 315 

Or shroud within these limits, I shall know 
Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark 
uoi. Plightedf instead of plaited, to avoid its jarring whli ptay, 

h 



408 COM US 

From her tliatcli'd pallat rouse ; if otherwise, 

I can conduct you, Lady, to a low 

But loyal cottage, where 3'ou may be safe ?20 

Till further quest. 

La. Shepherd, I take thy word. 

And trust thy honest offer'd courtesy, 
Whijh oft is sooner found in lowly sheds 
With smoky rafters, than in tapestry halls. 
And courts of princes, where it first was named, 325 
And yet is most pretended ; in a place 
Less warranted than this, or less secure, 
I cannot be, that I should fear to change it. 
Eye me, blest Providence, and square my trial 
To my proportion'd strength. Shephei'd, lead on. 330 

The Two Brothers. 

E. Bro. Unmufiie, ye faint Stars, and thou fair 
That wont'st to love the traveller's benizon, [Moon, 
Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, 
And disinherit Chaos, that reigns here 
In double night of darkness and of shades ; 335 

Or if your influence be quite damm'd up 
With black usurping mists, some gentle taper. 
Though a rush-candle from the wicker hole 
Of some clay habitation, visit us 

With thy long levell'd rule of streaming light, 340 
And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, 
Or Tyrian Cynosure. 

Y. Bro. Or if our eyes 

Be barr'd that happiness, might we but hear 
The folded flocks penn'd in their wattled cotes. 
Or sound of pastoral reeds with oaten stops, 343 

Or whistle from the lodge or village cock 
Count the night watches to his feathery dames, 
'T would be some solace yet, some little cheering 
In this close dungeon of innumerous boughs. 
But O that hapless virgin, our lost Sister, 350 

Where may she wander now, whither betake her 
From the chill dew, amongst rude burs and thistles'! 
Perhaps some cold bank is her bolster now, 
Or 'gainst the rugged bark of some broad elm 
Leans her unpillow'd head, fraught with sad fears 
of Arcad- kc the greater and lesser 



COMUS. 409 

What if in wild amazement and affriglit ? 356 

Or, while we speat, within the direful g-rasp 
Of savag^e hung*er or of savage heat 1 

E. Bro. Peace, Bi-other, be not over-exquisite 
To cast the fashion of uncertain evils : \ 360 

' For grant they be so, while they rest unknown, 
What need a man forestall his date of grief. 
And run to meet what he would most avoid 1 
Or, if they be but false alarms of fear, 
How bitter is such self-delusion 1 365 

I do not think my Sister so to seek. 
Or so unprincipled in Virtue's book, 
And the sweet peace that goodness bosoms ever, 
As that the single want of light and noise 
(Not being in danger, as I trust slie is not) 370 

Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts, 
And put them into misbecoming plight. 
Virtue could see to do what Virtue would 
By her own radiant light, though s\in and moon 
Were in the flat sea sunk. And Wisdom's self 375 
Oft seeks to sweet retired Solitude, 
Where with her best nurse, Contemplation, 
She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings. 
That in the various bustle of resort 
Were all too ruffled, and sonietimes impair'd. 380 
He that has light within his own clear breast 
May sit i' th' centre, and enjoy bright day : 
But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts. 
Benighted walks under the mid-day sun : 
Himself is his own dungeon. 

Y. Bro. 'Tis most true, 3S5 

That musing meditation most affects 
The pensive secrecy of desert cell. 
Far from the cheerful haunt of men and herds. 
And sits as safe as in a senate house ; 
For who would rob a hermit of his weeds, 390 

His few books, or his beads, or mfl,ple dish. 
Or do his grey hairs any violence ? 
But Beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree 
Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard 
Of dragon watch, with unenchanted eye, 395 

To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit 
From the rash hand of bold Incontinence. 
T 



410 COMUS. 

You may as well spread cut the unsiinn'd. heaps 

Of miser's treasure by an outlaw's den, 

And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope 400 

Danger v/ill wink on Opportunity^ 

And let a single helpless maiden pass 

Uninjured in this wild surrounding waste. 

Of night, or loneliness, it recks me not ; 

I fear the dread events that dog them both, 405 

Lest some ill-greeting touch attempt the person 

Of our unowned Sister. 

E. Bro. I do not, Brother, 

Infer, as if I thought my Sister's state 
Secure without all doubt, or controversy : 
Yet where an equal poise of hope and fear 410 

Does arbitrate th' event, my nature is 
That I incline to hope, rather than fear. 
And gladly banish squint Suspicion. 
My Sister is not so defenceless left 
As you imagine ; she has hidden strength, 415 

Which you remember not. 

y. Bro. What hidden strength. 

Unless the strength of Heav'n, if you mean that ? 

E. Bro. I mean that too, but yet a hidden strength, 
Which if Heav'n gave it, may be term'd her own : 
'Tis Chastity, my brother, Chastity: 420 

She that has that is clad in complete steel. 
And like a quiver'd nymph witli arrows keen 
May trace huge forests, and unharbour'd heaths, 
Infamous hills and sandy perilous wilds. 
Where, through the sacred rays of Chastity, 425 

No savage fierce, bandit, or mountaineer. 
Will dare to soil her virgin purity : 
Yea there, where very Desolation dwells 
By grots, and caverns shagg'd with horrid shades. 
She may pass on v/ith unblench'd majesty, 430 

Be it not done in pride, or in presumption. 
Some say no evil thing that walks by night, 
In fog, or fire, by lake, or moorish fen, 
Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost, 
That breaks his magic chains at curfeu time, 435 
No goblin, or swart faery of the mine, 

432. This passage is in very clooe imitation of one in Fletcher's 
* Faithful Shepherdess.' 



COMUS. 411 

Hath hurtful powea* o'er true virg-iriity. 
Do ye believe me yet, or shall 1 call 
Antiquity from the old schools of Greece 
To testify the arms of Chastity "? 440 

lleuce had the huntress Dian her dread bow. 
Fair silver-shafted queen, for ever chaste, 
Wherev/ith she tamed the brinded lioness 
And spotted mountain pard, but set at nought 
The frivolous bolt of Cupid : Gods and men 445 

Fear'd her stern frown, and she was queen o' th' 
What was that snaky-headed Gorg'on shield [woods. 
That wise Minerva v/ore, unconquer'd virgin. 
Wherewith she freezed her foes to congeal'd stone. 
But rigid looks of chaste austerity, 450 

And noble grace that dash'd brute violence 
With sudden adoration, and blank awe ? 
So dear to Heav'n is saintly Chastity, 
That when a soul is found sincerely so, 
A thousand liveried Angels lacky her, 455 

Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, 
And in clear dream, and solemn vision. 
Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear. 
Till oft convei'se with heav'nly habitants 
Begin to cast a beam on th' outv/ard shape, 460 

The unpolluted temple of the mind. 
And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence. 
Till all be made immortal : but when Lust, 
By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk, 
But most by lewd and lavish act of sin, 465 

Lets in Defilement to the inward parts. 
The soul grows clotted by contagion, 
Imbodies and imbrutes, till she quite lose 
' The divine property of her first being. 
Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp 470 
Oft seen in charnel vaults, and sepulchres, 

462. The same strong' appearance of complete materialism in 
pentinient, is discoverable in this passasre as in several parts of 
Paradise Lost —It, however, admits of the sanie partial explena- 
tion, as it may be taken to refer solely to that perfect change 
which shall be'produced in the body when it puts on immortality, 
and which I imagine will not be a' mere renovation of youth or 
beautv, but a chanire in the corporeal essence, if I may so sfieak, 
of our eartlily frauTes. For at present it is their nature to decay, 
hereafter it will be their nature to exist unchanged. It is nothing 
fa«t their essence becoming different, can effect this. 



412 COMUS. 

Lingering", and sitting- by a new-made grave, 

As loath to leave the body that it loved, 

And link'd itself by carnal sensuality 

To a degenerate and degraded state. 475 

Y. Bro. How charming is divine philosophy ! 
Not harsh, and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, 
But musical as is Apollo's lute, 
And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets. 
Where no crude surfeit reigns. 

E. Bro. List, list, I hear 480 

Some far off halloo break the silent air. 

Y. Bro, Methought so too ; what should it be ? 

JS. Bro. For certain 

Either some one like us night-founder'd here, 
Or else some neighbour wood-man, or, at worst. 
Some roving robber calling to his fellows. 485 

Y. Bro. Heav'n keep my Sister. Again, again. 
Best draw, and stand upon our guard. [and near ; 

E. Bro. I'll halloo ; 

If he be friendly, he comes well ; if not, 
Defence is a good cause, and Heav'n be for us. 

The attendant Spirit, habited like a shepherd. 

That halloo I should know, v/hat are you? speak ; 
Come not too near, you fall on iron stakes else. 491 

Spi. What voice is that 1 my young Lord \ speak 
again. 

Y. Bro. O Brother, 'tis my father's shepherd, sure. 

E. Bro. Thyrsis '? whose artful strains have oft de- 
The huddling brook to hear his madrigal, [lay'd 

And sweeten'd every musk-rose of the dale. 496 

How cam'st thou here, good Swain 1 hath any ram 
Slipt fi'om the fold, or young kid lost his dam. 
Or straggling wether the pent flock forsook 1 
How could 'st thou find this dark sequester'd nook 1 

Spi. my loved master's heir, and his next joy, 
I came not here on such a tiivial toy 
As a stray 'd ewe, or to pursue the stealth 
Of pilfering wolf ; not all the fleecy wealth 
That doth enrich these downs is worth a thought 
To this my errand, and the care it brought. 506 

But, O my virgin Lady, where is she 1 
How chance she is not in your company ? 



COMUH. 413 

E^ Bro. To tell thee sadly. Shepherd, without 
blame. 
Or our neglect, we lost her as we came. 510 

Spi. Aye me unhappy! then my fears are true. 

JE. Bro. What fears, good Thyrsis 1 Prithee briefly 

Spi. I'll tell ye; 'tis not vain or fabulous [shew. 
(Though so esteem'd by shallow ignorance) 
What the sage poets, taught by th' heav'nly Muse, 
Story 'd of old in high immortal verse, 516 

Of dire chimeras and enchanted isles. 
And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to Hell ; 
For such there be, but unbelief is blind. 

Within the navel of this hideous wood, 520 

Immured in cypress shades a sorcerer dwells, 
Of Bacchus and of Circe born, great Comus, 
Deep skill'd in all his mother's witcheries. 
And here to every thirsty wanderer 
By sly enticement gives his baneful cup, 525 

With many murmurs mix'd, whose pleasing poison 
The visage quite transforms of him that drinks, 
And the inglorious likeness of a beast 
Fixes instead, unmoulding Reason's mintage 
Character'd in the face ; this hare I learnt 530 

Tending my flocks hard by i' th' hilly crofts. 
That brow this bottom glade, whence night by night 
He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl 
Like stabled wolves, or tigers at their prey, 
Doing abhon*ed rites to Hecate 535 

In their obscured haunts of inmost bov/ers. 
Yet have they many baits, and guileful spells. 
To' inveigle and invite th' unwary sense 
Of them that pass unweeting by the way. 
This evening late, by then the chewing flocks 540 
tiad ta'en their supper on the savoury herb 
Of knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold 
I sat me down to watch upon a bank 
With ivy canopied, and interwove 
With flaunting honey-suckle, and began, 545 

Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy. 
To meditate my rural minstrelsy. 
Till Fancy had her fill ; but ere a close, 

503. Sadly , not sorrowfully, but gravely, soberiy. 
331. Crofts, little pasture fields. 



414 COMUS. 

The wonted roar was up amidst the woods, 

And fill'd the air with barbarous dissonance ; 55C 

At which I ceased, and listen 'd them a while. 

Till an unusual stop of sudden silence 

Gave respite to the drowsy flighted steeds, 

That draw the litter of close-curtain'd Sleep ; 

At last a soft and solemn breathing sound 555 

Rose like a steam of rich distill'd perfumes, 

And stole upon the air, that even Silence 

Was took, ere she was ware, and wish'd she might 

Deny her nature, and be never more 

Still to be so displaced. I was all ear, 560 

And took in strains that might create a soul 

Under the ribs of Death : but 0, ere long. 

Too well I did perceive it was the voice 

Of my most honoured Lady, your dear sister. 

Amazed I stood, harrow 'd with grief and fear, 565 

And O poor hapless nightingale, thought I, 

How sweet thou sing'st, how near the deadly snare! 

Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste, 

Thrcugh paths and turnings often trod by day, 

Till guided by mine ear I found the place, 570 

Where that damn'd wizard hid in sly disguise 

(For so by certain signs I knew) had met 

Already, ere my best speed could prevent. 

The aidless innocent Lady, his wish'd prey. 

Who gently ask'd if he had seen such two, 575 

Supposing him some neighbour villager. 

Longer I durst not stay, but soon I gaess'd 

Ye were the tv/o she meant ; v/ith that 1 sprung 

Into sv/ift flight, till I had found you here ; 

But further know I not. 

Y. Bro. O Night and shades, 580 

How are ye join'd with Hell in triple knot. 
Against the unarm'd weakness of one virgin. 
Alone and helpless! Is this the confidence 
You gave rae. Brother? 

E. Bro. Yes, and keep it still. 

Lean on it safely ; not a period 585 

Shall be unsaid for me : against the threats 

561. There is an old emblem representing a soul in the form 
of ail infant under the ribs of a skeleton. It is to be found Ja 
Quarlee. 



COMUS. 415 

Of Malice or of Sorcery, or that power 

Which erring' men call Chance, this I hold firm, 

Virtue may be assail'd, but never hurt. 

Surprised by unjust force, but not enthrall'd; i&O 

Yea, even that which Mischief meant most harm, 

Shall in the happy .trial prove most glory : 

But evil on itself shall back recoil, 

And mix no more with goodness, when aA last 

Gather'd like scum, and settled to itself, 595 

It shall be in eternal restless change 

Self-fed, and self-consumed : if this fail, 

The pillar'd firmament is rottenness. 

And earth's base built on stubble. But come, let's on. 

Against th' opposing will and arm of Heaven 600 

May never this just sword be lifted up ; 

But for that damn'd Magician, let him be girt 

With all the grisly legions that troop 

Under the sooty flag of Acheron, 

Harpies and Hydras, or all the monstrous form's COS 

'Twixt Africa and Ind, I'll find him out, 

And force him to restore his purchase back, 

Or drag him by the curls to a foul death, 

Cursed as his life. 

Spi. Alas ! good venturous Youth, 

£ love thy courage yet, and bold emprise : 610 

But here thy sword can do thee little stead ; 
Far other arms and other weapons must 
Be those that quell the might of hellish charms: 
He with his bare wand can unthread thy joints. 
And crumble all thy sinews. 615 

£. Bro. Why, prithee. Shepherd, 
How durst thou then thyself approach so near. 
As to make this relation ? 

Spi. Care and utmost shifts 

How to secure the Lady from surprisal. 
Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad. 
Of small regard to see to, 37et well skill'd G20 

In every virtuous pJ.ant and healing herb. 
That spreads her verdant leaf to th' morning ray : 
He loved me well, and oft would beg me sing. 
Which when I did, he on the tender grass 
Would sit, and hearken even to ecstasy, Qi5 

And in requital ope his leathern scrip, 
4nd shew me simples of a thousand names, 
2 E 



416 COMUS. 

Telling their strange and visrorous faculties: 

Among- the rest a small unsightly root, 

But of divine effect, he cuU'd me out ; 630 

The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it, 

But in another country, as he said. 

Bore a bright golden flower, but aiot in this soil : 

Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swain 

Treads on it daily v/ith his clouted shoon ; 635 

And yet more medcinal is it than that Moly 

That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave ; 

He call'd it Harmony, and gave it me. 

And bade me keep it as of sovereign use 

'Gainst all enchantments, mildew, blast, or damp. 

Or ghastly furies' apparition. 641 

I pursed it ir^, but little reckoning made. 

Till now that this extreixiity compell'd : 

But now I find it true ; for by this means 

I knew the foul enchanter though disguised, 645 

Enter'd the very lime-twigs of his spells. 

And yet came off: if you have this about you 

(As I will give you when-we go), you may 

Boldly assault the Necromancer's hall ; 

Where if he be, with dauntless hai'dihood G50 

And brandish'd blade, rush on him, break his glass, 

And shed the luscious liquor on the ground. 

But seize his wand : though he and his cursed crew 

Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high, 

Or, like the sons of Vulcan, vomit smoke, 655 

Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink. 

E. Bro. Thyrsis, lead on apace, I'll follow thee. 
And some good angel bear a shield before us. 

The scene changes to a stately palace, set out with 
all manner of deliciousness : soft music, tablta 
spread 7vith all daijities. Comus appears ivith Ids 
rabble, and the Lady set in an enchanted chair, 
to whom he offers his glass, which she puts by, and 
goes about to rise. 

Com. Nay, Lady, sit; if I but wave this wand, 

636. The commentators are not at all determined what plants 
a'e here meant; nor can I discover any information in their ela- 
oorate inc^niries which would serve to eiilierhten the reader c n the 
subject. I'he herbs mentioned were probably known in Milton's 
time, for some supposed power which the superstitious attributed 
to them, and their names altered by iiim to suit his poeticaJ 
phraseology. 



\ 

COMUS. 417 

Your nerves are all cliain'd up in alabaster, 660 

And you a statue, or as Daphne was 
Root-bound, that fled. Apollo. 

La. Fool, do not boast, 

Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind 
With all thy charms, although this corporal rind 
Thou hast immanacled, while Heaven sees g-ood. 665 

Com. Why are you vex'd, Lady ? why do you frown 1 
Here dwell no frowns, nor anger; from these gates 
Sorrow flies far; see, here be all the pleasures 
That Fancy can beget on youthful thoughts. 
When the fresh blood grov/s lively, and returns 670 
Brisk as the April buds in primrose-season. 
And first behold this cordial julep hei-e, 
That flames and dances in his crystal bounds. 
With spirits of balm and fragrant syrups mix'd : 
Not that Nepenthes, which the wife of Thone 675 
In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena, 
[s of such power to stir up joy as this, 
To life so friendly, or so cool to thiust. 
Why should you be so cruel to yourself, 
And to those dainty limbs which nature lent 680 
For gentle usage, and soft delicacy? 
But you invert the covenants of her trust, 
And harshly deal, like an ill borrower, 
With that which you received on other teinns, 
Scorning the unexempt condition 685 

By which all mortal frailty must subsist, 
Refreshment after toil, ease after pain. 
That have been tired all day without repast. 
And timely rest have wanted ; but, fair Virgin, 
This will restore all soon. 

La. 'Twill not, false traitor, 6D0 

•Twill not restore the truth and honesty 
That thou hast banish'd from thy tongue with lies. 
Was this the cottage, and the safe abode. 
Thou told'st me of? What grim aspects are these, 
These ugly-headed monsters ? Mercy guard nie ! 695 
Hence with thy brew'd enchantments, foul deceiver : 

662. This speech and the first line of the next, were added to 
the orig-inal draus^lit of the poem. 

675. A liquor, which it is said, in Homer, Odyss. iv. 219, Heleni 
had been taimiit to make by the wife of Tlione, an Egyptian 
Kinj, See also Spenser, Fae. Qu. B. 4. Can. 3. St. 43 
T 2 



4TS COMUS. 

Hast thou betray'd my credulous innocence 

With visor'd falsehood and base forgery ? 

And would 'st thou seek again to trap me here 

With liquorish baits, fit to insnare a brute ? 700 

Were it a draft for Juno when she banquets, 

I would not taste thy treasonous offer ; none 

But such as are good men can give good things. 

And that which is not good is not delicious 

To a well-g'ovem'd and wise appetite. 703 

Com, O foolishness of men! that lend their ears 
To those budg'e doctors of the Stoic fur, 
And fetch their precepts from the Cynic tub, 
Praising the lean and sallow abstinence. 
Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth 710 
With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, 
Covering- the earth with odours, fruits, and flocks. 
Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable. 
But all to please, and sate the curious taste? 
And set to work millions of spinning worms, 715 

That in their green shops weave the smooth-hair'd silk 
To deck her sons ; and that no corner might 
Be vacant of her plenty, in her ow^n loins 
She hutcht th' all-worshipp'd ore, and precious gems 
To store her children with : if all the world 720 

Should in a pet of temp'rance feed on pulse. 
Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze, 
Th' All-giver would be unthank'd, would be unpraised, 
Not half his riches known, and yet despised. 
And we should serve him as a grudging master, 725 
As a penurious niggard of his wealth, 
And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons, 
Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight, 
And strangled with her waste fertility, 723 

Th' earth cumber'd, and the wing'd air dark'd with 
The herds would over-multitude their lords, [plumes, 
The sea o'erfraught would swell, and th' unsought 

diamonds 
Would so imblaze the forehead of the deep. 
And so bestud with stars, that they below 
Would grow inured to light, and come at last 735 
To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows. 

707. Budge, fwTved.. 
719. Htitcht, concealtU, or kept as in a coflfer. 



COMUS. 419 

List Lady, be not coy, and be not cozen'd 

Witli that same vaunted name Virginity. 

Beauty is Nature's coin, must not be hoarded, 

But must be current, and the good thereof f-lO 

Consists in mutual and partaken bliss. 

Unsavoury in th' enjoyment of itself; 

If you let slip time, like a neglected rose 

It withers on the stalk with lang-uish'd head. 

Beauty is Nature's brag, and must be shewn 745 

In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities. 

Where most may wonder at the workmanship ; 

It is for homely features to keep home, 

They had their name thence ; coarse complexions 

And cheeks of soi-ry grain will serve to ply 750 

The sampler, and to tease the housewife's wool. 

What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that. 

Love-darting eyes, or tiesses like the Morn? 

There was another meaning in these gifts ; 754 

Think what, and be advised, you are but young yet. 

La. I had not thought to have unlock'd my lips 
In this uuhaWow'd air, but that this juggler 
Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes 
Obtruding fal^e rules prank'd in Reason's garb. 
I hate when Vice can bolt her arguments, 760 

Aiid Virtue has no tongue to check her pride. 
Impostor, do not charge most innocent Nature 
As if she would her children should be riotous 
With her abundance ; she, good catewess^ 
Means her provision only to the good, 705 

That live according to her sober laws. 
And holy dictate of spare temperance: 
If every just man, that now pines with want. 
Had but a moderate and beseeming share 
Of that which lewdly-pamper'd luxury 770 

Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, 
Nature's full blessings would be well dispensed 
In unsuperduous even proportion. 
And she no whit encumber'd with her store : 
And then the Giver would be better thank'd, 775 
His praise due paid ; for swinish Gluttony 

751. To tease ; in its orig-inal sense, and like the Latin carpere, 
to comb or prepare for spinning-. 

760. Can bolt, dart or shoot forth. 



423 



COMUS 



Ne'er looks to Heav'n amidst his g-orgeous feast. 

But with besotted base ingratitude 

Crams, and blasphemes his feeder. Shall I go on ? 

Or have I said enough ? To him that dares 780 

Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words 

Ag-ainst the sun-clad power of Chastity, 

Fain would I something say, yet to what end? 

Thou hast not ear, nor soul, to apprehend 

The sublime notion and high mystery, 785 

That must be utter'd to unfold the sage 

And serious doctrine of Virg-inity, 

And thou art worthy, that thou should'st not know 

More happiness than this thy present lot. 

Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric, 790 

That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence. 

Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced ; 

Yet should I try, the uncontrolled worth 

Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits 

To such a flame of sacred vehemence, 795 

That dumb things would be moved to sympathize. 

And the brute earth would lend her nerves, and 

Till all thy magic structures, rear'd so high, [shake, 

Were shatter'd into heaps o'er thy false head. 

Com. She fables not, I feel that I do fear 800 

Her words set off by some superior power ; 
And though not mortal, yet a cold shudd'ring dew 
Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove 
Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus 
To some of Saturn's crew. I must dissemble, 805 
And try her yet more strongly. Come, no more, 
This is mere moral babble, and direct 
Against the canon laws of our foundation ; 
I must not suffer this, yet 'tis but the lees 
And settlings of a melancholy blood : 810 

But this will cure all straight, one sip of this 
Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight 
Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste. — 

The Brothers rush in with swords drawn, wrest his 
glass out of his hand, and break it against the 
ground ; his rout make sign of resistance, but are 
all driveii in ; the attendant Spirit comes in, 

Spi. What, have you let the false enchanter 'scape ? 



COML'S. 421 

O ye mistook, ye should have snatch'd his wand 
And bound him fast : without his rod reversed, 8i0 
And backward mutters of dissevering power, 
We cannot free the Lady that sits here 
In stony fetters fix'd, and motionless : 
Yet stay, be not disturb'd ; novv- I bethink me, S20 
Some other means I have which may be used. 
Which once of Meliboeus old 1 learnt, 
The soothest shepherd that e'er piped on plains. 

There is a gentle nympli not far fi-om hence, 824 
That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn 
Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure ; [stream. 

Whilome she was the daughter of Locrine, 
That had the sceptre from his father Brute. 
She, guiltless damsel, fl3ing the mad pui-suit 
Of her enraged stepdame Guendolen, 830 

Commended her fair innocence to the flood, 
That stay'd her flight with his cross-flowing- course. 
The water-nymphs that in the bottom play'd. 
Held up their pearled wrists and took her in. 
Bearing: her straight to aged Nereus' hall, 835 

Who, piteous of her woes, rear'd her lank head. 
And gave her to his daughters to imbathe 
In nectar'd lavers strow'd with asphcdil, 
And through the porch and inlet of each sense 
Dropt in ambrosial oils till she revived, 840 

And underwent a quick immortal change, 
IMade Goddess of the river ; still she retains 
Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve 
Visits the herds along the twilight meadows. 
Helping all urchin blasts, and ill-luck signs 845 

That the shrewd meddling elfe delights to make, 
Which she with precious vial'd liquors heals; 
For which the shepherds, at their festivals, 
Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays. 
And throw sweet garland vrreaths into her stream 
Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils. 851 

And, as the old swain said, she can unlock 
The clasping charm, and thaw the uumming spell, 

S26. The story of Sabrina is related at full in the first book of 
Milton's History of England. See also Fae. Qu. B. 2. Can. 10. 
St. 17. 

846. The meddling elfe is Robin Good fellow, or Puck, the well- 
known frolicsome fairy. 



422 COMUS. 

If she be right invoked in warbled song', 

For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift 855 

To aid a virgin, such as was herself. 

In hard besetting need ; this will I try, 

A.nd add the power of some adjuring verse. 

SONG. 

Sabrina fair, 

Listen where thou art sitting 800 

Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, 

In twisted braids of lilies knitting 
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair ; 

Listen, for dear Honour's sake. 

Goddess of the Silver lake, SC5 

Listen and save. 
Listen, and appear to us 
In name of great Oceanus, 
By th' earth-shaking Neptune's mace. 
And Tethys' grave majestic pace, 870 

By hoary Nereus' wriiikled look. 
And the Carpathian wizard's hook, 
By scaly Triton's winding shell, 
And old sooth-saying Glaucus' spell. 
By Leucothea's lovely hands, 875 

And her son that rules the strands. 
By Thetis' tinsel-slipper'd feet. 
And the songs of Sirens sweet, 
By dead Parthenope's dear tomb. 
And fair Ligea's golden comb, 880 

Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks. 
Sleeking her soft alluring locks, 
By all the nymphs that nightly dance 
Upon thy streams with wily glance. 
Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head 885 

From thy coral-paven bed. 
And bridle in thy headlong wave. 
Till thou our summons answer'd have. 
Listen and save. 

872. The Carpathian ivizard ; Proteus, who had a cave at Car- 
pathus, an island in the Mediterranean. 

879. Parthenope and Ligca were two sirens; the former had, it 
is said, a tomb at Naples; the latter is here introduced according 
to the usual representations of mermaids. 

889. The almost unparalleled beauty of this and the following 
passajce, the variety of epithets and imas^es, the rapidity of the 
verse, sparkling' and g-leaming- with the brightest sunshine o/ 
poetry, are a feast of roses to the imagination. ' 



COMUS. 42:5 

Sabrina rises j attended by water nymphs, and sings. 
By the rxishy-fringed bank, 890 

Where g-rows the willow and the osier dank. 

My sliding- chariot stays, 
Thick set with agate, and the azure sheen 
Of turkois blue, and emerald g^reen. 

That in the channel strays ; 895 

Whilst fi'om off the waters fleet 
Thus I set my priatless feet 
O'er the cowslip's velvet head, 

That bends not as I tread ; 
Gentle Swain, at thy request 900 

I am here. 
Spi. Goddess dear, 
We implore thy powerful hand 
To undo the charmed band 

Of true Virgin here distress'd, 905 

Through the force and through the wile 
Of unblest enchanter vile. 

Sab. Shepherd, 'tis my office best 
To help ensnared chastity : 

Brightest Lady, look on me ; 910 

Thus I sprinkle en thy breast 
Drops that from my fountain pure 
I have kept of precious cure, 
Thrice upon thy fingers' tip, 

Thrice upon thy rubied lip ; 915 

Next this marble venom'd seat, 
Smear'd with gums of glutinous heat, 
I touch with chaste palms moist and cold : 
Now the spell hath lost his hold ; 
And I must haste ere morning hour 920 

To wait in Amphitrite's bower. 

Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat. 

Spi. Virgin, daughter of Locrine, 

Sprung from old Anchises' line, 

May thy brimmed waves for this 

Their full tribute never miss 925 

From a thousand petty rills. 

That tumble down the snowy hills : 

923. Locrine was the son of Brutus, who was immediateiy 
descended from Anchises. 



124 COMUS. 

Summer droiwht, or singed air, 

Never scorch thy tresses fair, 

Nor wet October's torrent flood 930 

Thy molten crystal till with mud: 

May thy biUovs roll ashore 

The beryl, and the golden oi'e ; 

May thy lofty head be crown'd 

With many a tower and terras round, 935 

A.nd here and there thy banks upon 

With groves of myrrh and cinnamon. 

Come, Lady, while Heav'n lends us grace. 
Let us fly this cursed place. 

Lest the Sorcerer us entice 910 

With some other new device. 
Not a waste or needless sound, 
Till we come to holier ground ; 
I shall be your faithful guide 

Through this gloomy covert wide, 915 

And not many fui'longs thence 
Is your father's residence. 
Where this night are met in state 
Many a friend to gratulate 

His wish'd presence, and beside 950 

All the swains that near abide 
With j Igs and rural dance resort ; 
We shall catch them at their sport, 
And our sudden coming there 
Will double all their mirth and cheer ; 9^."^ 

Come, let us haste, the stars grow high. 
But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky. 

7'he scene changes, presenting Ludloiv town and the 
Presidents castle ; then come iit country dancers, 
after them the attendant Spirit, with the tivo 
Brothers and the Lady. 

SONG. 

Spi. Back, Shepherds, back; enough your play 
Till next sun-shine holiday. 

Here be without duck or nod 960 

Other trippings to be trod 
Of lighter toes, and such court guise 
As Mercury did first devise 

936. Upon , crown'd, understood from line 934. 



COMUS. 425 

With the mincing Dryades 

On the lawns, and on the leas. 965 

This second song presents them to their Father 
and Mother. 
Nohle Lord, and Lady bright, 
I have brought ye new delight, 
Here behold so goodly g-rown 
Three fair branches of your own ; 
Heav'n hath timely tried their youth, 970 

Their faith, their patience, and their truth, 
And sent them here through hard assays 
With a crown of deathless praise. 
To triumph in victorious dance, 
O'er sensual folly and intemperance. 975 

The dances ended, the Spirit epilognizes. 

Spi. To the ocean now I liy. 
And those happy climes that lie 
Where Day never shuts his eye, 
Up in the broad fields of the sky • 
There I suck the liquid air 080 

All amidst the g-ardens fair 
Of Hesperus, and his daughters three 
That sin<^ about the g-olden ti'ee ; 
Along' the crisped shades and (jowers 
Revels the spruce and jocund Spring*, 9S5 

The Graces, and the rosy-bosom'd Hours, 
Thither all their bounties bring" ; 
There eternal Summer dwells. 
And west-winds with musky wing- 
About the cedar'd alleys fling- 990 
Nard and Cassia's balmy smells. 
Iris there with humid bow 
Waters the odorous banks that blow 
Flowers of more mingled hue 
Than her purfled scarf can shew, 995 
And drenches with Elysian dew 
(List, mortals, if your ears be true) 
Beds of hyacinth and roses, 
Where young Adonis oft reposes, 

976. This farewell of the spirit is in close imitation of Ariel's 

eonsT in the Teiiipest, Act 5. So. 3. 

'895. Purjicd, embroidered. 



426 L'ALLEGRO. 

Waxing well of his deep wound 1000 

In slumber soft, and on the ground 

Sadly sits th' Assyrian queen ; 

But far above in spangled sheen 

Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced. 

Holds his dear Psyche sweet entranced, 1005 

After her wand 'ring labours long. 

Till free consent the Gods among 

Make her his eternal bride, 

And from her fair unspotted side 

Two blissful twins are to be born, 1010 

Youth and Joy ; so Jove hath sworn. 

But now my task is smoothly done, 
I can fly, or I can run 
Quickly to the green earth's end. 
Where the bow'd welkin low doth bend, 1015 
And from thence can soar as soon 
To the corners of the moon. 

Mortals that would follow me, 
Love Virtue ; she alone is free, 
She can teach ye how to climb 1020 

Higher than the sphery chime ; 
Or, if Virtue feeble were, 
Heav'n itself would stoop to her. 

1002, r/t' Assyrian queen ; Venus, so called because 

first worshipped by the Assyrians. 

There is a moral in this poem as sweetly and purely delicate 

as the verse is exquisite for its lovely images and melody. !t was 

performed as a drama at Ludlow Castle, in 1634, before the Earl 

of iiridgewater, President of Wales, and was printed in 1637. 



L'ALLEGRO. 

Hence, loathed Melancholy, 

Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born. 
In Stygian cave forlorn, [unholy* 

'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights 

This celebrated little descriptive poem and its companion, have 
preserved their distinct ori<^inality amid tlie crowii of similar 
compositions with which they are snrroundcd. They owe boti 
their excellence and their popularity to the domestic character of 
their imagery, and to their direct appeal to the emotions whicli 
belons? to Uie enjoyment of external nature. In o-lher poems of 
the same kind, the sentiments introduced are frequently those of 
# tiie writer only, and no' those which must, by the most general 



L'ALLEGRO. 427 

Find out some uncouth cell, 5 

Where brooding- Darkness spreads his jealous 

And the night raven siug-s ; [wings^ 

There under ebon shades and low-brow'd rocks, 

As ragged as thy locks, 

In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. 10 

But come, thou Goddess fair and free, 

In Heav'n yclep'd Euphrosyne, 

And by men, heart-easing" Mirth, 

Whom lovely Venus at a birth 

With two sister Graces more 15 

To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore ; 

Or whether (as some sages sing) 

The frolic wind that breathes the spring, 

Zephyr, with Aurora playing. 

As he met her once a-Maying, 20 

There on beds of violets blue. 

And fresh-blown I'oses wash'd in dew, 

Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair. 

So buxom, blithe, and debonair. 

Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee 25 

Jest and youthful Jollity, 

Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, 

Nods and Becks, and wreathed Smiles, 

Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, 

And love to live in dimple sleek ; SO 

Sport that wrinkled Care derides. 

And Laughter holding both his sides. 

Come, and trip it as you go 

On the light fantastic toe, 

ind in thy right hand lead with thee 3b 

The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty; 
, And, if I give thee honour due. 



laws of human thoug'ht and feeling-, belon.q: to both the author and 
tlie reader. Sensations of ^-ladnessor nielanclioly may be infinite- 
ly varied, and in a poem of sentiment or character should bear tlie 
deep impress of personality ; but when nature is described in her 
cheerful or sombre aspect, the connexion between the object and 
the emotion .should be certain and instantaneous. If the reader 
compare these poenss with other descriptive compositions, and the 
feelings with which he reads them, he will better perceive the 
peculi;vr excellence of the former. 

IJAHegro, che cheerful man, and II Penseroso, the melancholy 
man, both Italian terms, and well adapted to the author's purpose. 
For the mythology of the poems, Milton is his own authority. 



428 "^ ALLEGRO. 

Mirth, admit me of thy crew 

To live with her, and live with thee 

In unreproved pleasures free ; ^ 

To hear the lark beg-in his flight. 

And singing- startle the dull Nig-ht, 

From his watch-tower in the skies, 

Till the dappled Dawn doth rise ; 

Then to come in spite of Sorrov/, 45 

And at my window bid good-morrow. 

Through the sweet-briar, or the vine 

Or the twisted eglantine; 

While the cock with lively din 

Scatters the rear of Darkness thin, 50 

And to the stack, or the barn door, 

Stoutly struts his dames before : 

Oft list'ning how the hounds and horn 

Cheerly rouse the slumb'ring- Morn, 

From the side of some hoar hill, 5-5 

Through the high wood echoing- shrill: 

Some time walking- not unseen 

By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green 

Right against the eastern gate, 

Where the great sun begins his state, 60 

Robed in flames, and amber light, 

The clouds in thousand liveries dight ; 

While the ploughman near at hand 

Whistles o'er the furrow'd land. 

And the milkmaid singeth blithe, 65 

And the mower whets his scythe, 

And every shepherd tells his tale 

Under the hawthorn in the dale. 

Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures 

Whilst the landskip round it measures, 70 

Russet lawns and fallows grey, 

Where the nibbling flocks do stray. 

Mountains on whose barren breast 

The labouring clouds do often rest. 

Meadows trim with daisies pied, 75 

Shallow brooks and rivers wide. 

Towers and battlements it sees 

Bosom'dhigh in tufted trees, 

Where perhaps some beauty lies. 

The C ynosure of neighbouring eyes 80 



L'ALLEGRO. 


429 


Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes. 




From betwixt two aged oaks. 




Where Cory don and Thyrsis met. 




Are at their savoury dinner set 




Of herbs and other country messes. 


85 


Which the neat-handed Phyllis dresses ; 




And then in haste her bower she leaves. 




With Thestylis to bind the sheaves ; 




Or if the earlier season lead 




To the tann'd haycock in the mead. 


bO 


Sometimes with secure delight 




The upland hamlets will invite. 




When the merry bells ring round. 




And the jocund rebecs sound, 




To many a youth and many a maid, 


95 


Dancing in the chequer'd shade ; 




A.nd young and old come forth to play 




On a sunshine holy-day, 




Till the live-long day-light fail ; 




Then to the spicy nut-brown ale. 


JOO 


With stories told of many a feat. 




How faery Mab the junkets eat ; 




She was pinch'd, and pull'd, sh said. 




And he by friar's lantern led ; 




Tells how the drudging goblin swet, 


105 


To earn his cream-bowl duly set. 




When in one night, ere glimpse of morn. 




His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn 




That ten day-labourers could not end ; 




Then lies him down the lubber fiend, 


lie 


And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length 




Basks at the fire his hairy strength. 




. And crop-full out of door he flings. 




Ere the first cock his matin rings. 




Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, 


115 


By whisp'ring winds soon lull'd asleep. 




Tower 'd cities please us then, 




And the busy hum of men. 




Where throngs of knights and barons bold 




In weeds of Peace, high triumphs hold. 


120 


With store of ladies, whose bright eyes 




Rain influence, and judge the prize 




Of wit, or arms, while both contend 





430 IL PENSEROSO. 

To win her grace whom all corauiend. 

There let Hj'men oft appear 125 

In saffron robe, with taper clear. 

And Pomp, and Feast, and Revelry, 

With Mask and antique Pageantry; 

Such sights as youthful poets dream. 

On summer eves by haunted stream. 130 

Then to the well-trod stage anon. 

If Jonson's learned sock be on, 

Or sweetest Shakspeare, Fancy's child, 

Warble his native wood-notes wild. 

And ever against eating' cares, 135 

Lap me in soft Lydian airs, 
Married to immortal Verse, 
Such as the meeting' soul may pierce 
In notes, with many a winding- bout 
Of linked sweetness long drawn out, 140 

With wanton heed, and giddy Gunning-, 
The melting voice through mazes running 
Untwisting all the chains that tie 
The hidden soul of harmoiiy ; 

That Orpheus' self may heave his head 145 

From golden slumber on a bed 
Of heap'd Klysian flowers, and hear 
Such strains as would have won the ear 
Of Pluto, to have quite set free 

His half-regain'd Eurydice. 150 

These delights if thou canst give. 
Mirth, with thee I mean to live. 



IL PENSEROSO. 

Hence, vain deluding Joys, 

The brood of Folly without father bred I 
How little you bested. 

Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys ! 

1 . The idea of this poem is said to have been taken from a song 
in a comedy by Fletcher, called 'The Nice Valor; or. Passionate 
Madman.' Tliere is, indeed, a slight general resemblance in the 
tvvo pieces ; but, even supposing an imitation so far as it goes, it is 
not enough to affect J:he originality of 11 Penseroso. 




CoirLe,peiisTve iN'mi, cleYout and joLire, 
SoJjer, steadfast, and demiice, 
An. ni a rolje of darirest grain, 
ZLowng -wJLli niajestic tnara. 



IL PENSEROSO. 431 

Dwell ill some idle brain, 5 

And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, 

A.S tliick and numberless 

As the gay motes that people the sun-beams; 

Or likest hovering dreams 

The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train. 10 

But hail, thou Goddess, sag*e and holy. 

Hail divinest Melancholy, 

Whose saintly visage is too bright 

To hit the sense of human sight, 

And therefore to our weaker view 15 

O'eilaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue ; 

Black, but such as in esteem 

Prince Memnon's sister might beseem. 

Or that starr'd Ethiop queen that strove 

To set her beauties* praise above 20 

The sea-nymphs, and their powers offended; 

Yet thou art higher far descended ; 

Thee(bright-hair'd Vesta^long of yore 

To solitary Saturn bore ; 

His daughter she (in Saturn's reign 25 

^^uch mixture was not held a stain) : 

10 ft in glimmering bowers and glades 

He met her, and in secret shades 

Of woody Ida's inmost grove. 

While yet there was no fear of Jove. 30 

Come pensive Nun, devout and pure, 

Sober, steadfast, and demure. 

All in a robe of darkest grain. 

Flowing with majestic train. 

And sable stole of Cyprus lawn, 35 

Over thy decent shoulders drawn. 

Come, but keep thy Avonted state. 

With even step, and musing gait. 

And looks commercing with the skies, 

Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyesy^ 40 

There, held in holy passion still. 

Forget thyself to marble, till 

With a sad leaden downward cast 

I'hou fix them on the earth as fast : 

19. Ethiop queen; Cassiope, who was so beautiful that the 
Nereids determined on her destruction. She was carried, it ia 
said, to the skies, and made a star of: hence the epithet. 

2 P 



432 IL PENSEROSO. 

And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet 4S 

Spare Fast, that oft with Gods doth diet> 
And hears the Muses in a ring- 
Ay round about Jove's altar sing: 
And add to these retired Leisure, 
That in trim gardens takes his pleasure. 60 

But first, and chiefest, with thee bring. 
Him that yon^soars on golden wing, :- 
Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne. 
The Cherub Contemplation; 

And the mute Silence hist along, 56 

'Less Philomel will deign a song, 
In her sweetest, saddest plight. 
Smoothing the rugged brow of Night, 
While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke. 
Gently o'er th' accustom'd oak : 60 

Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, 
Most musical, most melancholy ! ; 
Thee, chauntress, oft the woods among 
I woo to hear thy even -song ; 

And missing- thee, I walk unseen 05 

On the dry smooth-shaven green, 
To behold the wandering moon. 
Riding near her highest noon. 
Like one that had been led astray 
Through the Heav'n's wide pathless way ; 70 

And oft, as if her head she bow'd* 
Stooping through a fleecy cloud. V 
Oft, on a plat of rising ground, ' 
I hear the far-off curfeu sound. 

Over some wide-water'd shore, 76 

Swinging slow with sullen roar; 
Or, if the air will not permit, 
Some still removed place will fit, 
Where glowing embers through the room 
Teach Light to counterfeit a gloom, 80 

Far from all resort of mirth, 
Save the ci-icket on the hearth. 
Or the belman's drowsy charm. 
To bless the doors from nightly harm : 

56. The cheerful character ot the former poem rendered it 
necessary to commence with a description of morning sights an 
uleasures ; in 'his the poet properly begins with evening)?. 






XL PENSEROSO. 43B 

T let my lamp, at Tnictnight hour., )( 85 

Be seen in some high lonely tower/ ' 
Where I may oft out-watch the Bear, 
With thrice great Hermes, or unsphere 
The spirit of Plato to unfold 

What worlds, or what vast reg-ious, hold 90 

Th' immortal mind that hath forsook 
Her mansion in this fleshly nook : . 
And of those Demons that are found 
In fire, air, flood, or under ground. 
Whose power hath a true consent 95 

With planet, or with element. 
Sometime let g-orgeous Tragedy 
In scepter'd pall come sweeping T)y, 
Presenting Thebes', or Pelop's line. 
Or the tale of Troy divine, i09 

Or what (though rare) of later age 
Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage. 

But, O sad Virgin, that thy power 
Might raise Musaeus from his bower ; 
Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing 105 

Such notes as, warbled to the string, 
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek 
And made Hell grant what Love did seek 
Or call up him that left half told, 

The story of Cambuscan bold, HO 

Of Camball, and of Algarsife, 
And who had Canace to wile. 
That own'd the virtuous ring and glass, 
And of the wondrous horse of brass. 
On which the Tartar king did ride; 115 

And if aught else great bards beside 
In sage and solemn tunes have sung. 
Of turneys and of trophies hung, 
Of forests and enchantments drear, 
Where more is meant than meets the ear. 120 

88. Hermes Trismeg^islns. The great Es^yptiiin philosopher 
who flourished, it is supposed, near the time of Moses. 

99. The ancient tras^edians drew the subjects of their principal 

dramas from the history of the kin^s of Thebes, &c. 

104^ Mnseeus, a celebrated ancient poet. 

109. An allusion toa tale which Chaucer left unfinished. Spenser 

endeavoured to complete it. Fae. Ciu. B. 4. Can. 2. St. 32. 

U 



434 



IL PEiNSERUSO. 



Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career, 
Till civil-suited Morn appear. 
Not trick'd and frounced as she was wont 
With the Attic boy to hunt, 
.-But kercheft in a comely cloud, 
I^Vhile rocking winds are piping loud,\' 
Or usher'd with a shower still. 
When the gust hath blown his fill. 
Ending- on the rustling leaves, 
With minute drops from off the eaves. 
And when the Sun begins to fling 
His flaring beams, me Goddess bring 
To arched walks of twilight groves. 
And shadows brown that Sylvan loves 
Of pine or monumental oak. 
Where the rude axe with heaved stroke 
Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt. 
Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt. 
There in close covert by some brook, 
Where no profaner eye may look. 
Hide me from Day's garish eye, 
While the bee with honied thigh, 
That at her flowery work doth sing, 
And the Avaters murmuring. 
With such concert as they keep. 
Entice the dewy-feather'd sleep : 
And let some strange mysterious dream 
Wave at his wings in aery stream 
Of lively portraiture display'd. 
Softly on my eye-lids laid, y 
And as I wake, sweet music breathe 
Above, about, or underneath, 
Sent by some Spirit to mortals good, 
Or th' unseen Genius of the wood. 

But let my due feet never fail 
To walk the studious cloister's pale, 
4nd love the high-embowed roof. 
With antique pillars massy proof. 
;And storied windows richly dightj 
Casting a dim religious light. ' 
There let the pealing organ blow. 
To the full-voiced qiiire below 



123 



130 



135 



145 



150 



159 



160 





ARCADES. 
In service high, and anthems clear, 




435 




As may with sweetness, through mine ear. 






Dissolve me into extasies. 




163 




And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes. 


, 






And may at last my weary age 








Find out the peaceful hermitage, 








The hairy gown and mossy ceK, 








Where I may sit and rightly spell 




170 




Of every star that Heav'n doth shew. 








And every herb that sips the dew ; 








Till old experience do attain 








To something like prophetic strain. 








These pleasures, Melancholy, give 




175 




And I with thee will choose to live. 








ARCADES. 








Part of an Entertainment* 'presented to the Countess 1 1 




Dowager of Derby, at Ilarefield, by some 


noble 


y)er- 




sons of her family, tvho appear on the scene i7i 


pas- 




toral habit, moving toward the seat of state, 


tvitk 




this song. 








I. SONG. 








Look Nymphs, and Shepherds look. 








What sudden blaze of majesty 








Is that which we from hence descry. 








Too divine to be mistook I 








This, this is she 




5 




To whom our vows and wishes bend ; 








Here our solemn se?^rch hath end. 








Fame, that, her high worth to raise. 








Seem'd erst so lavish and profuse. 








We may justly now accuse 




10 




Of detraction from her praise ; 








Less than half w^e find exprest, 








Envy bid conceal the rest. 








* This frag-mentis called a mask in Milton's manuscript, 


andie 




is supposed to have been completed by other hands. 


There 


was a 




connexion by marriag-e between the Countess of Derby a 


jd the 




Earl of Bridg-ewater, before whom Conius was performed. 


The 




Arcades in a chronological arrangement ou^ht to 


precede tJie 1| 




latter. 







436 ARCADES. 

Mark what radiant state she spreads, 
lu circle rovmd her shining- throne, 15 

Shooting- her beams like silver threads; 
Thia, this is she alone, 

Sitting like a Goddess bright, 

In the centre of her light. 

Might she the wise Latona be, 20 

Or the tower'd Cybele, 

Mother of a hundred gods ; 

Juno dares not give her odds ; 

Who hath thought this clime had held 

A deity so unparalleled 1 25 

-4.5 they come forward the Genius of the wood appears 
and turning towards thenit speaks. 

Gen. Staj^, gentle Swains, for tho' in this disguise, 
I see bright honour sparkle through your eyes ; 
Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung 
Of that renowned flood, so often sung, 
Divine Alpheus, who by secret sluice 30 

Stole under seas to meet his Arethuse ; 
And ye, the breathing roses of the wood, 
\Fair silver-buskin'd Nymphsjas great and good, 
I know this quest of yours, and free intent, 
Was all in honour and devotion meant 35 

To the great mistress of yon princely shrine, 
Whom with low reverence I adore as mine, 
And with all helpful service will comply 
To further this night's glad solemnity ; 
And lead ye where ye may more near behold 40 

What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold ; 
Which I full oft amidst these shades alone 
Have sat to wonder at, and gaze upon : 
For know by lot from Jove"! am the power 
Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower 45 

To nurse the saplings tall, and curl the grove 
With ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove. 
And all my plants I save fi'om nightly ill 
Of noisome winds, and blasting vapours chill: 

30. Alpheus, a river of Arcadia, which runs for some way under 
tlie sea, and rises again with the fountain Arethuse^ near Syra- 
cuse in Sicily. 



ARCADES. 437 

And from the boughs brush off the eril dew, 59 

And he«*I the harms of thwarting thunder blue. 
Or what the cross dire-looking planet smites. 
Or hurtful worm with canker'd venom bites. 
When Evening grey doth rise, I fetch my round 
Over the mount, and j>ll this hallow'd ground ; 55 
And early ere the odorous breath of Morn 
Awakes the slumb'ring leaves, or tassel'd horn 
Shakes the high thicket, ha&te I all about. 
Number my ranks, and visit every sprout 
With puissant words, and murmurs made to bless ; 
But else i-u deep of night, when drowsiness 61 

Hath lock'd up mortal sense, then listen I 
To the celestial Sirens' harmony. 
That sit upon the nine infolded spheres. 
And sing to those that hold the vital shears, 65 

And turn the adamantine ?pindle round. 
On which the fate of gods and men is wound. 
^;Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie. 
To lull the daughters of Necessity, 
And keep unsteady Nature to her law, 70 

And the low world in measured motion draw 
After the heavenly tune, which none can hear 
Of human mould with gross unpurged ear; 
And yet such music worthiest were to blaze 
The peerless height of her immortal praise, 75 

Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit. 
If my inferior hand or voice could hit 
Inimitable sounds ; yet as we go, 
Whate'er the skill of lesser gods can shew, 
I will assay, her worth to celebrate, 80 

And so attend ye toward her glittering state ; 
Where ye may all that are of nobie stem 
Approach, and kiss her sacred vesture's hem. 



0*e.r the smooth enamell'd green. 

Where no print of step hath been, 83 

Follow me as I sing. 

And touch the warbled strings 
Under the shady Koof 
Of branching elm star-proof. 



438 LYCIDAS. 

Follow me, Qn 

I will bring' you where she sits, 
Clad in splendour as befits 

Her deity. 
Such a rural queen 
All Arcadia hath not seen. 99 

III. SONG. 

Nymphs and Shepherds dance no more 

By sandy Ladon's lilied banks, 
On old Lycaeus or Cyllene hoar 

Trip no more in twilight ranks. 
Though Erymanth your loss deplore, 100 

A better soil shall give ye thanks. 
From the stony Maenalus 
Bring your flocks, and live with us. 
Here ye shall have greater grace. 
To serve the Lady of this place. 105 

Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were, 
Yet Syrinx well might wait on her. 

Such a rural queen 
All Arcadia hath not seen. 



LYCIDAS. 

In this monody the Author heivails a lear^ied Friend, nnfortU' 
nately drowned in hia passage from Chester, on the Irish seas, 
1637, a7id by occasion fore tels the ruin of our corrupted Clergy, 
then in their height.* 

Yet once more, O ye Laurels, and once more 
Ye Myrtles brown, with Ivy never sere, 
1 come to pluck your berries harsh and crude. 
And with forced fingers rude 

97. .Ladon, another beautiful river in Arcadia. — Lycisus, &c. 
are celebrated mountains in the same country. 

* This beautiful little poem, which partakes as much of the 
character of the alleg-ory as of the pastoral, was written in me- 
morial of Edward Kins', son of Sir John King, Secretary for 
Ireland, who perished by shipwreck in a voyage to DubliVi, in 
the 25th year of his ag-e. He was the fellow-colleg-ian and most 
intimate friend of the poet, who at that lime was destined, as well 
as himself, for holy orders. There are several allusions to the 
latte'" circumstance in the monody. 



LYCIDAS. 439 

Shatter your leases before the mellowing year. 5 

Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear. 

Compels me to disturb your season due : 

For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime. 

Young Lycidas, and bath not left his peer : 

Who would not sing for Lycidas ? he knew 10 

Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. 

He must not float upon his watery bier 

Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, 

Without the meed of some melodious tear. 

Begin then. Sisters of the Sacred Well, 15 

That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring. 
Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string. 
Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse. 
So may some gentle Muse 

With lucky words, favour my destined urn, 20 

And as he passes turn, 
And bid fair peace be to my ssble shroud : 
' For we were nursed upon the self-same hill. 
Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill. 

Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd 25 

Under the opening eye-lids of the morn,«' 
We drove a-field, and both together heard 
What time the grey-fly winds her sultry horn, 
Battening our flocks with the fresh dews of night. 
Oft till the star that rose at evening bright, 30 

Towards Heaven's descent had sloped his westering 

wheel. 
Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, 
j'Temper'd to the oaten flute, 

\Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel 
From the glad sound would not be absent long, 35 
And old Damaetas loved to hear our song. 
/ But O the heavy change, now thou art gone| 
iNow thou art gone, and never must return ! - ' 
"^hee, Shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves, 
With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown. 
And all their echoes, mourn ; 41 

The willows, and the hazel copses green, 
Shall now no more be seen, 

15. Sacred Well ; the fountain Hippocrene, sacred to the 
muses, which springs from mount Helicon, on vhich there wa* 
an altar to Jupiter. 

19. Muse^ a raetonomy for poet, see Una 21. , 



440 LYCIDAS. 

( Fanning' their joyous leaves to thy soft lays J 
"As killing as the canker to the rose, ""^ 45 

Or taint-worm to the weanling- herds that graze, 
Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear. 
When first the white-thorn blows ;/ 
Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherd's ear. 
Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless 
deep 50 

Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas ? 
For neither were ye playing on the steep, 
Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie, 
I Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, 
VNor yet where Deva spreads her wizard streajn: 53 
Ay me ! I fondly dream. 

Had ye been there; for what could that have done] 
What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore. 
The Muse herself for her enchanting son, 
Whom universal Nature did lament, CO 

When, by the rout that made the hideous roar, 
His gory visage down the stream was sent, 
Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shoi'e 1 
I Alas J what boots it with incessant care 
To tend the homely, slighted shepherd's trade, 65 
And strictly meditate the thankless Muse % 
Were it not better done, as others use. 
To sport with Amaryllis in the shade. 
Or with the tangles of Nesera's hair 1 
Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 70 
(That last infirmity of noble minds; 
To scorn delights, and live laborious days ; 
But the fair guerdon when we hope to find. 
And think to burst out into sudden blaze. 
Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, 75 
And slits the thin-spun life. But not the praise, 
Phoebus reply'd, and touch'd my trembling ears ; 
(Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil. 
Nor in the glistering foil 

Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies; 80 
But liyes and spreads aloft by those pure eyes 

52. The steep ; supposed to be Kerigy Drudion, a druid sta- 
tion in Denbighshire.- -iVfoJia ; the isle of Anglesey. — Deva; the 
river Dee. 

66. Meditate the Muse ; a classical phrase ; thus Virg-il, EcL 
1. 2. Musam Meditaiis. 



LYCIDAS. 441 

And perfect witness of all-judging Jove ; 

As he pronounces lastly on each deed, . 

Of so much fame in Heaven expect thy meed. )( 

O fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd flood, 85 
.Smooth-sliding Mincius, crown'd with vocal reeds. 
That strain I heard was of a higher mood : 
But now my oat proceeds, 
And listens to the herald of the sea 
That came in Neptune's plea ; 90 

He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the felon winds, 
What hard mishap hath doom'd this gentle swain % 
And question'd every gust of rugged winds 
That blows from off each beaked promontory ; 
They knew not of his story, 95 

And sage Hippotades their answer brings. 
That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd ; 
The air was calm, and on the level brine 
Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd. 
It was that fatal and perfidious bark 100 

Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, 
That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. 
' Next Camus, reverend sii*e, went footing slow, 
i His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge. 
Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge, 105 
Like to that sanguine flower. Inscribed with woe. 
Ah ! who hath reft (quoth he) my dearest pledge "? 
Last came, and last did go, 
The pilot of the Galilean lake, 

Two massy keys he bore of metals twain 110 

(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain). 
He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake : 
How well could I have spared for thee, young sw?in. 
Enow of such as for their bellies' sake 
Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold? 115 

Of other care they little reck'ning make. 
Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast. 
And shove away the worthy bidden guest ; [hold 
Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to 
A sheep-hook, or have learn'd aught else the least 
That to the faithful herdsman's art belongs ! 121 

86. Mincius; a river near Manlua, where Virgil was born 
89. T/ie herald; Trilon. — Hippotades ; yEolus, the son of Hlp- 
potas. — Panope; a sea nyinph. — Camus; the Cani. 
109. The pilot; Saint Peter. 
U2 



442 LYCIDAS. 

What reclcs it them 1 v/hat need they ? they are sped ; 
And when they list, theii- lean and flashy song-s 
Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw ; 
The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, 125 

But swoll'n with wind, and the rank mist they draw, 
Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : 
Besides v/hat the grim wolf with privy paw 
Daily devours apace, and nothing said ; 
But that two-handed engine at the door, 130 

Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more. 
jf Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past, 
That shrunk thy streams ; return Sicilian Muse, 
And call the vales, and bid them hither cast 
Their bells, and flowerets of a thousand hues. 135 
Ye Valleys low, where the mild whispers use 
Of shades, and wanton winds, and gaishing brooks. 
On whose fresh lap the swai't star sparely looks. 
Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes. 
That on the green turf suck the honied showers, 140 
And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 
Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies. 
The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine. 
The white pink, and the pansy fi'eak'd with jet. 
The glowing violet, 145 

The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine. 
With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, 
And every flower that sad embroidery wears : 
Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, 
And daflbdillies fill their cups with tears, 150 

To strow the la\ireat hearse where Lycid lies. ]/ 
For so to intei-pose a little ease. 
Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise. 
Ay me ! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas 
Wash far aAvay, where'er thy bones are hurl'd, 155 
Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, 
Where thou perhaps und'er the whelming tide 
Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world ; 
Or whether thou to our moist vows denied, 



124. Scrannel ; harsh. 
128. k\\ allusion, it is probable, to lue supposed attempts at thi« 

geriod to introduce a^aln the superstitious obsenances ol the 
■Oman church, which Archbishop Laud, it was thought, favoured, 
142. Rathe ; t?arly. 



LYC.i DAb. 443 

Sleep'st by the fable of Beilerus old, 160 

Where the great vision of the guarded mount 
Loots toward Namancos and Bayona's hold ; 
Look homeward Angel nov/, and melt v/ith ruth : 
And, O ye Dolphins, waft the hapless youth. 

Weep no more, woful Shepherds, weep no more. 
For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, ICO 

Sunk though he be beneath the v/atery floor; 
/So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, 
And yet anon repairs his dj-oopina: head. 
And tricks his beams, and with new-spang:led ore 170 
Flames in thjg.-forehead of the morning sky ; / 
So Lycidas sunk low, T)ut moaiifeS liigh, 
f Through the dear might of Him that walk'd the waves, 
iWhere, other groves and other streams along, 
With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, 1?5 

And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, 
,In the blest kingdoms meek of Joy and Lovfj. 
There entertain him all the saints above. 
In solemn troops and sweet societies, 
That sing, and singing in their glory move, 180 

And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes. 
Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more ; 
Henceforth thou art the genius of the shore, 
In thy large recompense, and shalt be good 
To all that wander in that perilous flood. 185 

^Thus sang the uncouth swain to th' oaks and rills, 
j -^hile the still morn v/ent out with sandals grey, ) 
\ I^e touch'd the tender stops cf various quills, "^"''^ 
i With eag'er thought warbling his Doric lay : 
i/'And now the sun had stretch'd out all the liiEs, 190 
\ And. now was dropt into the western bay : 
At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue : 
To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new. 

160. Beilerus; the Land's Ent, It is supposed, so called from 
an old Cornish giant. — Namancos and Bayona , fortreeses on ihe 
coast of Spain. 



POEMS 

ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 



I. 

(Anno 5:tatis 17.) 



ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT, 
DYING OF A COUGH. 

O FAIREST flower, no sooner blown but blasted, 
boft silken primrose fading timelessly, 
Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst out-lasted 
Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry 
For he being amorous on that lovely dye 

That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, 
But kill'd, alas, and then bewail'd his fatal bliss. 

For since grim Aquilo his charioteer 

By boisterous rape th' Athenian damsel got, 

He thought it touch'd his deity full near, B 

If likewise he some fair one wedded not, 

Thereby to wipe away th' infamous blot 

Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld, [held 
Which 'mongst the wanton gods a foul reproach wa> 

So mounting up in icj'-pearled car 1* 

Through middle empire of the freezing air 
He wander'd long, till thee he spy'd from far: 
There ended was his quest, there ceased his care. 
Down he descended from his snow-soft chair. 

But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace 24 
Unhoused thy Tirgin soul from her fair hiding-place. 

Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate ; 

For so Apollo, with unweeting hand, 

Whilume did slay his dearly loved mate. 

Young Hyacinth born on Eurota's strand, 25 

Young Hyacinth the pride of Spartan land ; 

23. Apollo, it is said by the poefc?, slew Hyacinth while plaving 
at quoits, aud aften^-ards' changed him into the flower bearing hjs 



POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 445 

But then transform'd him to a purple ilower : ^ 
Alack, that so to change thee Winter had no power. 

Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead. 
Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb, 30 
Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed. 
Hid from the world in a low delved tomb; 
Could Heav'n for pity thee so strictly doom? 
Oh no I for something- in thy face did shine 
Above mortality, that shew'd thou wast divine. 35 

Resolve me then, oh Soul, most surely blest 
(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear). 
Tell me, bright Spirit, where'er thou hoverest, 
Whether above that high first-moving- sphere. 
Or in th' Elysian fields (if such there were) 40 

O say me true, if thou wert mortal wight, [ilight. 
And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy 

Wert thou some star which from the ruin'd roof 
Of shaked Olympus by mischance did'st fall ; 
Which careful Jove in Nature's true behoof 45 

Took up and in fit place did reinstall ? 
Or did of late Earth's sons besiege the wall 

Or sheeny Heav'n, and thou some goddess lied 
Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head ? 

Or wert thou that just maid who once before 50 

Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth. 
And cam'st again to visit us once more 1 
Or wert thou that sweet smiling youth 1 
Or that crown'd matron sage white-robed Truth 1 54 
Or any other of that heav'nly brood [good ? 

Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some 

Or wert thou of the golden-winged host. 
Who having clad thyself in human weed, 

44. Shaked Olympus; in allusion to the virar of the giants who 
besieg-ed Jupiter. 

50. That jnst maid ; Astrea, the goddess of justice. 

53. r am inclined to think that Truth only is meant both in this 
and in the foUovring ex^-ression, and that it is, therefore, not ne- 
cessary to introduce, as the commentators have done, mercy or 
youth, in this line. Truth, for its purity, clear and unsoiled 
beauty, has all the characteristics of xiveet smilins: youth : tor its 
gravUy and unchana-ing- steadiness it has the marks of matronljf 
g-race. The poet might hence very beautifully express a doubt as 
to v/hether he was to "call it a youth or a matron. 



446 POEMS ON 

To Earth from thy prefixed seat didst post, 

And after short abode fly back with speed, 00 

As if to shew what creatures HeaVn doth breed. 

Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire 
To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heav'n aspire? 

But oh, why didst thou not stay here below 

To bless us with thy Heav'n-loved innocence, 65 

To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe 

To turn swift-rushing black Perdition hence 

Or drive away the slaughtering Pestilence, 

To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart? 
But thou canst best perform that office where thouai*t. 

Then thou, the mother of so sweet a child, 71 

Her false imagined loss cease to lament. 

And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild ; 

Think what a present thou to God has sent. 

And render him with patience what he lent ; 75 

This if thou do, he will an offspring give 
That till the world's last end shall make thy name 
to live. 

II. 
CAnno^tatisig.) 
At a Vacation Exercise in the college, 'part Latin, 
part English. The Latin speeches ended, the 
English thus began. 

Hail, native Language, that by sinews weak 

Didst move my first endeavouring tongue to speak. 

And mad'st imperfect words with childish trips, 

Half-uupronounced, slide through my infant-lips. 

Driving dumb Silence from the portal door, 5 

Where he had mutely sat two years before: 

Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ask. 

That now I use thee in my latter task : 

Small loss it is that hence can come unto thee, 

1 know my tongue but little grace can do thee: 10 

Thou need'st not be ambitious to be first. 

Believe me, I have thither pack'd the worst : 

And, if it happen as I did forecast. 

The dantiest dishes shall be served up last. 

68. These verses were written while there was a ^rf 8»l 
plague raging. 



SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 447 

I pray thee then deny me not thy aid 15 

For this same small neglect that I have made : 

But haste thee straight to do me once a pleasure. 

And from thy wardrobe bring- thy chiefest treasure. 

Not those new-fangied toys, and trimming slight 

Which takes our late fantastics with delight, 20 

But cull those richest robes, and gay'st attire 

Which deepest spirits and choicest Avits desire : 

I have some naked thoughts that rove about. 

And loudly knock to have their passage out ; 

And weary of their place do only stay 25 

Till thou hast deck'd them in thy best array ; 

That so they may without suspect or fears 

Fly swiftly to this fair assembly's ears ; 

Yet I had rather, if I were to choose, 

Thy service in some graver subject use, 30 

Such as may make thee search thy coffers round, 

Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound ; 

Such where the deep transported mind may soar 

Above the wheeling poles, and at Heaven's door 

Look in, and see each blissful deity 35 

How he before the thunderous throne doth lie, 

List'ning to what unshorn Apollo sings 

To th' touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings 

Immortal nectar to her kingly sire ; 

Then passing through the spheres of watchful fire, 

And misty regions of wide air next under, 41 

And hills of snow and lofts of piled thunder. 

May tell at length how green-eyed Neptune raves. 

In Heav'n's defiance must'ring all his waves ; 

Then sing of secret things that came to pass 45 

When beldam Nature in her cradle was ; 

And last of kings, and queens, and heroes old. 

Such as the v/ise Demodocus once told 

In solemn songs at king Alcinous' feast. 

While sad Ulysses' soul and all the rest 50 

Are held with his melodious harmony 

In willing chains and sweet captivity. 

48. Demodocus ; a musician and poet mentioned in the eighth 
book of the Odyssey, in which kin^ Alcinous is represented as 
entertaining' Ulysses. The reader, if he be curious to understand 
the scope of what follows, must have reference to some book of 
logic. 

2G 



443 POEMS ON 

But fie, my wand'rmg" Muse, how thou dost stray! 

Expectance calls thee now another way ; 

Thou know'st it must be now thy only bent 55 

To keep in compass of thy predicament : 

Then quick about thy purposed business come. 

That to the next I may resign my room. 

Then Ens is represented as father of the Predica- 
ments, his ten sons, whereof the eldest stood for 
Substance with his canons, which Ens, thus speak- 
ing, explains. 

Good luck befriend thee, son ; for at thy birth 
The faery ladies danced upon the hearth; 60 

Tfcy drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spy 
Come tripping to the room where thou didst lie. 
And sweetly singing round about thy bed 
Strow all their blessings on thy sleeping head. 
She heard thera give thee this, that thou should'st still 
From eyes of mortals walk invisible : 66 

Yet there is something that doth force my fear. 
For once it was my dismal bap to hear 
A Sybil old, bow-bent with crooked age. 
That far events full wisely could presage, 70 

And in Time's long and dark prospective glass 
Foresaw what future days should bring to pass; 
Your son, said she, (nor can you it prevent) 
Shall subject be to many an accident. 
O'er all his brethren he shall reign as king, 75 

Yet every one shall make him underling, 
And those that cannot live from him asunder 
Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under ; 
In worth and excellence he shall out-go them.; 
Yet being above them, he shall be below them ; 80 
From others he shall stand in need of nothing. 
Yet on his brothers shall depend for clothing. 
To find a foe it shall not be his hap. 
And Peace shall lull him in her flowery lap ; 
Yet shall he live in strife, and at his door 85 

Devouring War shall never cease to roar: 
Yea, it shall be his natural property 
To harbour those that are at enmity. 
What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not 
Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot? 90 



SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 449 

The next Quantity and Quality spake in prosCf then 
Relation was called hy his name 
Rivers arise ; whether thou be the son 
Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulphy Dun, 
Or Trent, who like some earth-born giant spi'eads 
His thirsty arms along- th' indented meads ; 
Or sullen Mole that runneth underneath, 95 

Or Severn swift, guilty of maidens' death ; 
Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee, 
Or coaly Tine, or ancient hallow'd Dee, 
Or Humber loud that keeps the Scythian's name. 
Or Medway smooth, or royal tower'd Thame. 100 
[The rest was prose.'] 

IIL 

ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIViTY. 
(Composed 1629.) 
This is the month, and this the happy morn, 
Wherein the Son of Heav'n's eternal King, 
Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born, 
Our great redemption from above did bring; 
For so the holy Sages once did sing, 5 

That he our deadly forfeit should release. 
And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. 

That glorious form, that light unsuiferable. 
And that far-beaming blaze of majesty. 
Wherewith he Avont at Heav'n's high council-table 10 
To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, 
He laid aside ; and here with us to be, 
Forsook the courts of everlasting day, 
And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay. 

Say, heav'nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein 15 

Afford a present to the Infant God ? 

Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain, 

To welcome him to this his new abode. 

Now wliile the Heav'n by the sun's team untrod, 

Hath took no print of the approaching light, 20 
And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons 
bright ? 

See how from far upon the eastern road 

The star-led wizards haste with odours sweet: 



450 POEMS ON 

O run, prevent them with thy humble ode. 

And lay it lowly at his blessed feet ; 25 

Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet, 

And join thy voice unto the angel quire, 
From out his secret altar touch'd with hallow'd fire. 

THE HYMN. 

It was the winter wild. 

While the Heav'n-born child 30 ' 

All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies ; 
Nature in awe to him 
Had dofF'd her gaudy trim. 

With her great Master so to sympathize : 
It was no season then for her 35 

To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. 

Only with speeches fair 
She woos the gentle air 

To hide her guilty front with innocent snow. 
And on ner naked shame, 40 

Pollute with sinful blame. 

The saintly veil of maiden white to threw. 
Confounded, that her Maker's eyes 
Should look so near upon her foul deformities. 

But he, her fears to cease, 45 

Sent down the meek-eyed Peace ; 

She, crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding 
Down through the turning sphere 
His ready harbinger. 

With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing, 50 
And, waving wide her myrtle wand. 
She strikes a universal peace through sea and land. 

No war, or battle's sound, 
Was heard the world around : 

The idle spear and shield were high up hung, 55 
The hooked chariot stood, 
Unstain'd with hostile blood, 

The trumpet spake not to the armed throng 
And kings sat still with awful eye. 
As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by 

28. Isaiah vi. 6, 7. 
52. She strikes ; so the Latin, faedus ferire. 



SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 451 

But peaceful was the night, Gl 

Wherein the Prince of light 

His reign of peace upon the earth began : 
The winds with wonder whist 
Smoothly the waters kiss'd, 65 

Whisp'ring- new joys to the mild ocean. 
Who now hath quite forgot to rave. 
While birds of calm sit brooding- on the charmed wave. 

The stars with deep amaze 

Stand fix'd in steadfast ^aze, 70 

Bending one way their precious influence, 
And will not take their flight. 
For all the morning light. 

Or Lucifer that often warn'd them thence; 
But in their glimmering orbs did glow, 75 

Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. 

And though the shady gloom 
Kad given day her room. 

The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, 
And hid his head for shame, 80 

As his inferior flame 

The new enlighten'd world no more should need ; 
He saw a greater sim appear [bear. 

Than his bright throne, or burning axle-tree coiAld 

The shepherds on the lawn, 85 

Or ere the point of dawn. 

Sat simply chatting in a rustic row ; 
Full little thought they then 
That the mighty Pan 

Was kindly come to live with them below ; 90 

■Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep. 
Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep. 

When such music sweet 

Their hearts and ears did greet, 

As never Avas by mortal finger strook, 95 

Divinely warbled voice 
Answering the stringed noise. 

As all their souls in blissful rapture took : 
The air such pleasure loth to lose, [close. 

With thousand echoes still prolongs each heav'nly 



452 POEMS ON 

Nature that heard such souiid, 101 

BeDeath the hollow round 

Of C^Tithia's seat, the aerj" re^on thrilling. 
Now was almost won 
To think her part was done, 105 

And that her reign had here its last fulfilling ; 
She knew such harmony alone 
Could hold all Heav'n and Earth in happier union. 

At last surrounds their sig-ht 

A globe of circiilar light, 110 

That with long teams the shame-faced night ar- 
The helmed cherubim [raj-'d ; 

And sworded seraphim, 

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd. 
Harping in loud and solemn quire, 1 15 

With ujiexpressive notes to Heaven's new-bom Heir. 

Such music (as 'tis said) 
Before was never made, 

But when of old the sons of morning sung, 
While the Creator great 120 

His constellations set. 

And the well-balanced world on hinges hung. 
And cast the dark foundations deep. 
And bid the welt'ring v/aves their oozy channel keep. 

Ring out, ye crystal spheres, 125 

Once bless our human ears 

(If ye have power to touch our senses so). 
And let ^^our silver chime 
Move in melodious time, 

And let the base of Heav'n's deep organ blow, 130 
And with your ninefold harmony. 
Make up full concert to th' angelic symphony. 

For if such holy song 
In wrap our fancy long, 

Time will rtin back, and fetch the age of Gold, 135 
And speckled Vanits' 
Will sicken soon and die. 

And leprous Sm will melt from earthly mould. 
And Hell itself will pass away, 139 

And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day 



SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 453 

Yea, Truth and Justice then 
Will down return to men, 

Orb'd in a rainbow ; and, like glories wearing, 
Mercy will sit between. 
Throned in celestial sheen, I45 

With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering. 
And Heav'n as at some festiral. 
Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall. 

But wisest Fate says no, 

This must not yet be so, 150 

The babe lies yet in smiling infancy 
That on the bitter cross 
Must redeem our loss ; 

So both himself and us to g-lorif y ; 154 

Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep, [the deep, 

The wakeful trump of Doom must thunder through 

With such a horrid clang 

As on mount Sinai rang, [brake : 

While the red fire and smouldering clouds out- 
The aged Earth aghast, 100 

With terror of that blast. 

Shall from the surface to the centre shake ; 
When at the world's last session, [throne. 

The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his 

And then at last our bliss 1G5 

Full and perfect is. 

But now begins ; for from this happy day 
Th' old Dragon under ground 
In straighter limits bound. 

Not half 80 far casts his usurped sway, 170 

And wroth to see his kingdom fail, 
Swindges the scaly horror of his folded tail. 

The oracles are dumb. 
No voice or hideous hum 

Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving 
Apollo from his shrine 176 

Can no more divine. 

With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. 
No nightly trance or breathed spell 
Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell. 

173. In allusion to the opinion that the oracles ceased 
at our Saviour's birth. 



•454 POEMS ON 

/ Tae lonely mountains o'er, 181 

And the resounding- shore, 

A voice of weeping- heard and loud lann.;nt; 
From haunted spring, and dale 
Edged with poplar pale, 1^6 

The parting Genius is with sig-hing sent ; 
With flower-inwoven tresses torn [mourn. 

The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets 

In consecrated earth, 

And on the holy hearth, 190 

The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight plaint ; 
In urns and altars round, 
A drear and dying* sound 

Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint ; 
And the chill marble seems to sweat, 195 

While each peculiar pow'r foregoes his wonted seat. 

Peor and Baalim 

Forsake their temples dim. 

With that twice-batter'd God of Palestine ; 
And mooned Ashtaroth, 200 

Heaven's queen and mother both, 

Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine ; 
The LybicHammon shrinks bis horn, [moura. 

In vain the Tyrian maids thcrir wounded Thammus 

And sullen Moloch fled, 205 

Hath left in shadows dread 

His burning idol all of blackest hue ; 
In Tain with cymbals' ring 
They call the grisly king 

In dismal dance about the furnace blue ; 21ft 

The brutish gods of Nile as fast, 
Isis and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste. 

Nor is Osiris seen 
In Memphian grove or green. 
Trampling the unshow'r'd grass with lowingsloud: 

191. The Lars and Lem:ires ; household gods and ni;;-ht spirits. 
Flamens; priests. There is a remarkable resemblance in this 
poem, one of Milton's earliest, to the later i^roductions of his 
genius. It presents the same mixture of learnin;,'^ and fancy; of 
original genius, forgetting iiseif amid the treasures of erudition. 
Most of the mythological names have been mentioned in the notes 
to tht' larger poems. 



SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 455 

Nor can he be at rest 216 

Within his sacred chest. 

Nought but profoundest Hell can be his shroud ; 
In vain with timbrell'd anthems dark 
The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipp'd ark. 

He feels from Juda's land 221 

Tiie dreaded Infant's hand. 

The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn ; 
Nor all the gods beside, 
Longer dare^ abide, 225 

Nor Typhon huge ending in snaky twine : 
Our Babe to shew his Godhead true. 
Can in his swaddling-bands control the damned crew. 
So when the Sun in bed, 
Curtain'd with cloudy red, 230 

Pillows his chin upon an orient wave. 
The Hocking shadov/s pale 
Troop to th' infernal jail. 

Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave. 
And the yellow-skirted Fayes 235 

Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-loved 
maze. 

But see the Virgin blest 
Hath laid her Babe to rest. 

Time is our tedious song should here have ending : 
Heav'n's youngest teemed star 240 

Hath fix'd her polish'd car. 

Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending : 
And all about the courtly stable 
Bright-harnest angels sit in order serviceable. 

IV. 

THE PASSION. 

Erewhile of music, and ethereal mirth. 

Wherewith the stage of air and earth did ring, 

And joyous news of heav nly Infant's birth. 

My Muse with angels did invite to sing; 

But headlong Joy is ever on the wing, 5 

244. Bright-harnest ; arnese, from which the epithet is derived, 
is an Italian word for any kind of ornament or dress. Harness, 
in English, is commonly used for armour. See 1 Kings xx. II. 



456 POEMS 0^f 

In wintry solstice like the shorten'd light 
Soon swallow'd up in dark and long out-liying night. 

For now to sorrow must I tune my song', 

And set my harp to notes of saddest woe. 

Which on our dearest Lord did seize ere long, 10 

Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse than so. 

Which he for us did freely undergo : 

Most perfect Hero, tried in heaviest plight, [wight ! 
Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human 

He sovereign Priest stooping his regal head, 15 

That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes. 
Poor fleshly tabernacle entered, 
His starry front low-rooft beneath the skies ; 
O what a mask was there, what a disguise ! 

Yet more ; the stroke of death he must abide, 20 
Then lies him meekly down fast by his brethren's side. 

These latest scenes confine my roving verse, 

To this horizon is my Phoebus bound; 

His godlike acts, and his temptations fierce. 

And former sufferings other where are found ; 25 

Loud o'er the rest Cremona's trump doth sound ; 

Me softer airs befit, and softer strings. 
Of lute, or viol still, more apt for mournful things. 

Befriend me Night, best patroness of grief. 

Over the pole thy thickest mantle throw, 30 

And work my flatter'd fancy to belief. 

That Heav'n and Earth are colour'd with my woe ; 

My sorrows are too dark for day to know: 

The leaves should all be black whereon I write, 
And letters where my tears have wash'd a wannish 
white. 35 

See, see the chariot, and those rushing wheels, 
That whirl'd the Prophet up at Chebar flood. 
My spirit some transporting cherub feels. 
To bear me Avhere the tow'rs of Salem stood. 
Once glorious tow'rs, now sunk in guiltless blood ; 

There doth my soul in holy vision sit 41 

In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatic fit. 

26. Cremona was the birth-place of the poet Vjda, who wrote si 
poem on the sufferings and history of Christ. 

37. The prophet; Ezekiel. See Fzekiel, chap. i. 



SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 457 

Mine eye hath found that sad sepulchral rock 
That was the casket of Heav'n's richest store. 
And here though grief my feeble hands up lock, 4S 
Yet on the soften'd quarry would I score 
My plaining verse as lively as before ; 

For sure so well instructed are my tears, 
That they would fitly fall in order'd characters. 

Or should I thence, hurried on viewless wing, 50 
Take up a weeping on the mountains wild, 
The gentle neighbourhood of grove and spring 
Would soon unbosom all their echoes mild, 
And I (for grief is easily beguiled) 

Might think th' infection of my sorrows loud 55 
Had got a race of mourners on some pregnant cloud. 

{This subject the Author finding to be above the years 
he had, ivhen he ivrote it, and nothing satisfied with 
what was begun, left it unfinished^ 



ON TIME. 

Fly, envious Time, till thou run out thy race. 
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours. 
Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace; 
And glut thyself with what thy womb devours. 
Which is no more than what is false and vain, 5 
And merely mortal dross ; 
So little is our loss, 
•So little is thy g-ain. 

For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd. 
And last of all thy greedy self consumed, 10 

Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss 
With an individual kiss ; 
And Joy shall overtake us as a flood, 
W^hen every thing that is sincerely good 
And perfectly divine, 15 

With truth, and peace, and love, shall ever shine 
About the supreme throne 
Of Him, to' whose happy-making sight alone 
X 



458 POEMS ON 

Wheu once our heav'tLly-guided soul shall climl), 
Then, all this earthy gTossness quit, 20 

Attired with stars, we shall for ever sit, 
Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, 
O Time. 

VI. 

UPON THE CIRCUMCISION. 

Ye flaming Pow'rs, and winged Warriors bright. 
That erst with music and triumphant song. 
First heard by happy watchful shepherds' ear, 
So sweetly sung your joy the clouds along 
Through the soft silence of the list'ning night ; 5 
Now mourn, and if sad share with us to bear 
Your fiery essence can distil no tear. 
Burn in your sighs, and borrow 
Seas wept from our deep sorrow : 
He wbo with all Heav'n's heraldry whilere 10 

Enter'd the world, now bleeds to give us ease ; 
Alas, how soon our sin 

Sore doth begin 

His infancy to seize ! 
O more exceeding love, or law more just? 15 

Just law indeed, but more exceeding love ! 
For we by rightful doom remediless 
Were lost in death, till he that dwelt above 
High throned in secret bliss, for us frail dust 
Emptied his glory,* even to nakedness ; 20 

And that great covenant which we still transgress 
Entirely satisfied, 
And the full wrath beside 
Of vengeful Justice bore for our excess. 
And seals obedience first with wounding smart 25 
This day, but O ere long 
Huge pangs and strong 

Will pierce more near his heart. 

* Philip, ii. 7. In our translation. He made himself of no re- 
putation ; but Milton's expression, Emptied his glory , is nearer 
(he originalt 



SEVERAL OCCASIONS. ^59 

VII. 

AT A SOLEMN MUSIC. 

Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'n's joy, 

Sphere-born harmonious bisters, Voice and Verse, 

Wed your divine sounds, and mix'd pow'r employ, 

Dead thing-s Avith inbreath'd sense able to pierce, 

A.iid to our high-raised phantasy present 5 

That undisturbed song- of pure concert. 

Ay sung before the sapphire-colour'd throne 

To Him thai sits thereon 

With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee, 

Where the bright seraphim in buraing- row 10 

Their loud up-lifted ang-el -trumpets bloA', 

And the cherubic host in thousand quires 

Touch their immortal harps of golden wires. 

With those just spirits that wear Tictorious palms. 

Hymns devout and holy psalms 15 

Singing* everlastingly ; 

That we on earth with undiscording- voice 

May rightly answer that melodious noise ; 

As once we did, till disproportion'd Sin 

Jarr'd against Nature's chime, and with harsh din 20 

Broke the fair music that all creatiu-es made 

To their great Lord, Avhose love their motion sway'd 

hi perfect diapason, whilst they stood. 

In first obedience, and their state of g-ood. 

O may we soon again renew that song-, 25 

And keep in tune with Hear'n, till God ere long 

To his celestial consort us unite. 

To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light. 

VIIL 

AN EPITAPH. 
ON THE MARCHIONESS OF WINCHESTER 

This rich marble doth inter 
The honour 'd wife of Winchester 

6. Concent ; from the Italian concento, harmony. 
7. Ezek. i. 26. 14. Rev. vii, 9. 

pason, a harmony running' through the whole 
scale of notcfe in every key. 



1G0 POEMS ON 

A Viscount's daughter, an Earl's heir. 

Besides what her virtues fair 

Added to her noble birth, 5 

More than she could own from earth. 

Summers three times eight save one 

She had told: alas! too soon. 

After so short time of breath. 

To house with darkness and with death 10 

Yet had the number of her days 

Been as complete as was her praise. 

Nature and Fate had had no strife 

In giving limit to her life. 

Her high bii'th, and her graces sweet, 15 

Quickly found a lover meet; 

The virgin quire for her request 

The god that sits at marriage feast ; 

He at their inv&king came 

But with a scaixe well-lighted flame; 20 

And in his garland as he stood 

Ye might discern a cypress bud. 

Once had the early matrons run 

To greet her of a lovely son. 

And novv' with second hope she goes, 25 

And calls Lucina to her throes ; 

But whether by mischance or blame 

Atropos for Lucina came ; 

And with remorseless cruelty 

Spoil'd at once both fruit and tree : 30 

The hapless babe before his birth 

Had buiial, yet not laid in earth. 

And the languish'd mother's womb 

Was not long a living tomb. 

So have I seen some tender slip, 35 

Saved with care from Winter's nip, 

The pride of her carnation train, 

riuck'd up by some unheedy swain. 

Who only thought to crop the flow'r 

New shot up from vernal show'r; 40 

But the fair blossom hangs the head 

Side-ways as on a dying bed, 

96. Lucina, the groddess said by the ancienis to be present 
at birlhs. — Atropos, one of die fates. 



SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 461 

And those pearls of dew she wears. 

Prove to be presaging tears. 

Which the sad Morn had let fall 45 

On her hast'ning- funeral. 

Gentle Lady, may thy grave 

Peace and quiet ever have ; 

After this thy travail sore 

Sweet rest seize thee evermore, 50 

That to give the world increase, 

Shorten 'd hast thy own life's lease. 

Here, beside the sorrowing 

That thy noble house doth brin^. 

Here be tears of perfect moan 55 

Wept for thee in Helicon, 

And some flowers, and some bays. 

For thy hearse, to strow the ways. 

Sent thee from the banks of Carae, 

Devoted to thy virtuous name ; 60 

Whilst thou, bright Saint, high sitst in giOry, 

Next her much like to thee in story. 

That fair Syrian shepherdess 

Who, after years of barrenness. 

The highly-favour'd Joseph bore 65 

To him that served for her before. 

And at her next birth, much like thee. 

Through pangs fled to felicity. 

Far within the bosom bright 

Of blazing Majesty and Light: 70 

There with thee, new welcome Saint, 

Like fortunes may her soul acquaint. 

With thee there clad in radiant sheen, 

No Marchioness, but now a Queen. 

IX. 

SONG. — ON MAY MORNING. 

Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger. 
Comes dancing fi-om the East, and leads with her 
The flow'ry May, who from her gTeen lap throws 
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. 

Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire 5 

Mirth and yoxith and warm desire ; 

63. Syrian shepherdess, Rachel. See Gen. xxix. 9, 



162 POEMS ON 

Woods and groves are of thy dressing. 
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing". 
Thus we salute thee with our early song-. 
And welcome thee, and wish thee long. 



ON SHAKSPEARE. 1630. 

What needs my Shakspeare for his hpnour'd bones 

The labour of an age in piled stones, 

Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid 

Under a starry-pointing- pyramid? 

Dear son of Memory, great heir of Fame, 5 

What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name ? 

Thou in our wonder and astonishment 

Hast built thyself a live-long monument. 

For whilst to th' shame of slow-endeavouring Art 

Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart 10 

Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book 

Those Delphic lines with deep impression took. 

Then thou our fancy of itself bereaving, 

Dost make us marble with too much conceiving ; 

And so sepulcher'd in suph^pomp, 4o?Lil?> ^^ 

That kings for such a tomb would wish to die. 

XI 

ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER. 

TVho sickened in the time of his vacancy, being forbid 
to go to London by reason of the plague. 

Here lies old Hobson ;* Death hath broke his girt, 
And here, alas, hath laid him in the dirt. 
Or else, the ways being foul, twenty to one. 
He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. 

* Hobson is reckoned amon? the most celebrated Cambridsc 
characters. He was the first who set up an establishment for 
hack horses, and his resolution in obliging whoever came to hire 
to take the one whicti stood next him, g-ave birtii to the well- 
known sayin? of Hohsun^i choice, this or none. He made a con- 
siderable fortune, and there is a picture of him at Cambrid«:e, for 
which a very considerable sum has been repeatedly offered and 
refused. \^'hen I was there, it was in the Norwich wag-aron- 
office, to the walls of which 1 was told it belonged by an inalien- 
able right. 



SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 463 

'Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known, 3 

Death was half glad when he had got him down ; 

For he had any time this ten years full 

Dodged with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull. 

And surely Death could never have prevail'd 

Had not his weekly course of carriage fail'd ; 10 

But lately finding him so long at home. 

And thinking now his journey's end was come. 

And that he had ta'en up his latest inn. 

In the kind office of a chamberlain 

She w'd him his room where he must lodge that night, 

PuU'd off his boots, and took away the light : 16 

If any ask for him, it shall be said, 

Hobson has supp'd, and 's newly gone to bed. 

XII. 

ANOTHER ON THE SAME. 

Here lieth one, who did most truly prove 
That he could never die while he could move ; 
So hung his destiny, never to rot 
While he might still jog on and keep his trot. 
Made of sphere-metal, never to decay 5 

Until his revolution was at stay. 
Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime 
'Gainst old Truth) motion number'd out his time ; 
And like an engine moved with wheel and v/eight. 
His principles being ceased, he ended straight. 10 
Rest that gives all men life, gave him his death. 
And too much breathing put him out of breath ; 
Nor were it contradiction to affirm 
■Too long vacation hasten'd on his term. 
Merely to drive the time away he sicken'd, 15 

Fainted, and died, nor v;ould with ale be quicken'd; 
Nay, quoth he, on his swooning bed out-stretch'd, 
If I mayn't carry, sure I'll ne'er be fetch'd. 
But vow, though the cross doctors all stood hearers. 
For one carrier put down to make six bearers. 20 
Ease was his chief disease, and to judge right, 
He died for heaviness that his cart went light : 
His leisure told him that his time Avas come, 
And lack of load made his life burthensome, 
2H 



464 POEMS ON 

That even to his last breath (there he that say't) 25 

As he were press'd to death, he cry'd more weight ; 

But had his doings lasted as they were. 

He had been an immortal caiTier. 

Obedient to the moon he spent his date 

In course reciprocal, and had his fate 30 

Link'd to the mutual flowing of the seas. 

Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase : 

His letters are deliver'd all and gone. 

Only remains this superscription, 

XIII. 

AD PYRRHAM. — ODE V. 

Horatius ex PyrrlitB illecehris tanquam 6 naufragio 
enataverat, cujus amore irretitoSf affirmat esse 
miseros. 

Quis multa gracilis te puerin rosa 
Perfusus liquidis urget odoribus, 

Grato, Pyrrha, sub antro % 

Cui flavam relig^as com am 
Simplex raunditiis ? heu quoties fidem 5 

Mutatosque deos flebit, et aspera 

Nigris sequora ventis 

Emirabitur insolens ! 
Qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea, 
Qui semper vacuam semper amabilem 10 

Sperat, nescius aur» 

Fallacis. Miseri quibus 
Intentata nites. Me tabula sacer 
Votiva paries indicat uvida 

Suspendisse potenti 15 

Vestimenta maris Deo. 

XIII. 

THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE, LIB. 1. 

Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa, rendered almost 
word for word, without rhyme, according to the 
Latin measure, as near as the language ivill permit. 
What slender youth bedew'd with liquid odours 
Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave. 



SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 465 

, Pyrrha 1 for whom bind'st thou 
f In wreaths thy golden hair, 

' Plain in thy neatness f. O how oft shall he 5 

I On faith and changed (j^ods complain, and seas 
Roug-h with black winds and storms 
Unwonted shall admire ! 
Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold. 
Who always vacant, always amiable, 10 

Hopes thee, of flattering gales 
Unmindful. Hapless they 
To whom thou untried seem'st fair. Me in my vow'd 
Picture the sacred wall declares to' have hung 
My dank and dropping weeds 15 

To the stern God of sea. 

XIV. 

ON THE NEW FORCERS OF CONSCIENCE, UNDER THE 
LONG PARLIAMENT. 

Because you have thrown off your Prelate lord. 
And with stiff vows renounced his liturgy. 

To seize the Avidow'd whore Plurality 
From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorr'd. 
Dare ye for this adjure the civil sword 5 

To force our consciences that Christ set free. 

And ride us with a classic hierarchy 
Taught ye by mere A. S. and Rotberford? 

Men whose life, learning, faith, and pure intent. 
Would have been held in high esteem with Paul, 10 

Must now be named and printed Heretics, 
By shallow Edwards and Scotch what-d'ye-call : 

But we do hope to find out all your tricks. 

Your plots and packing* worse than those of Trent, 
That so the Parliament 15 

May with their wholesome and preventive shears 
Clip your phylacteries, though balk your ears, 

And succour our just fears. 
When they shall read this clearly in your charge. 
New Presbyter is but Old Priest writ large. 20 



X2 



SONNETS. 



TO THE NIGHTINGALE. 

O NIGHTINGALE, that on yon bloomy spray 
Warblegt at eve, when all the woods are still. 
Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill, 

While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May. 

Thy liquid notes, that close the eye of day, 5 

First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill, 
Portend success in love ; O if Jove's will 

Have link'd that amorous power to thy soft lay. 
Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate 

Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh ; 10 
As thou from year to year hast sung too late 

For my relief, yet hadst no reason why : 
Whether the Muse, or Love, call thee his mate. 

Both them I serve, and of their train am I. 

II. 

Donna leggiadra il cui bel nome honora 
L'herbosa val di Rheno, e il nobil varco. 

Bene e colui d'ogni valore scarco 

Qual tuo spirto gentil non innamora, 

Che dolcemente mostra si di fuora 5 

De sui atti soavi giamai parco, 
E i don', che son d'amor saette ed arco. 

La onde I'alta tua virtu s'infiora. 

Quando tu vaga parli, o lieta canti 

Che mover possa duro alpestre legno, 10 

Guardi ciascun a gli occhi, ed a gii orecchi 

Le'eiicranta, chi di te si truova indegno ; 

Gratia sola di su gli vaglia, inanti 

Che'l disio amoroso al cuor s'invecchi. 

III. 

Qual in colle aspro, al imbrunir di sera 
L'avezza gioviuetta pastorella 
Va bagnando I'herbetta strana e bella 

Che nial si spande a disusata spera 



SONNETS. 467 

Fuor di sua natia alma primavera, 5 

Cosi Amor meco insii la lingua snella 

Desta il fior novo di strania favella, 
Mentre io di te, vezzosamente altera. 

Canto, dal mio buon popol non inteso 
E'l bel Tamigi cangio col bel Arno. 10 

Amor lo volse, ed io a I'altrui peso 
Seppi ch' Amor cosa mai volse indamo. 

Deh ! foss' il mio cuor lento e'l duro seno 

A chi pianta dal ciel si buon terreno. 

CANZONE. 

RiDONSi donne e giovani amorosi 

M' accostaudosi attorno, e perche scrivi, 

Pei'che tu scrivi in lingua ignota e strana 
Verseg-giando d' amor, e come t' osi 1 

Dinne, se la tua speme sia mai vana, 5 

E de pensieri lo miglior t' an-ivi ; 
Cosi mi van burlando, altri rivi 

Altri lidi t' aspettan, et altre onde 

Nelle cui verdi sponde 
Spuntati ad hor, ad hor a la tua chioma 10 

L'immo7-tal guiderdon d' eterne frondi 
Percbe alle spalle tue soverchia soma? 

Canzon dirotti, e tu per me rispondi 
Dice mia Donna, e'l suo dir, e il mio cuore 
Questa e lingua di cui si vanta Amore. 15 

IV. 

DiODATi, e te'l dir6 con maraviglia, 

Quel ritroso io ch'amor spreggiar solea 

E de suoi lacci spesso mi ridea 
Gia caddi, ov'huom dabben talhor s'impiglia. 
Ne treccie d' oro, ne guancia vermiglia 5 

M' abbaglian si, ma sotto nova idea 

Pellegrina bellezza cbe'l cuor bea, 
Portamenti alti honesti, e nelle ciglia 

Quel sei-eno fulgor d' amabil nero. 
Parole adorne di lingua piu d* una, 10 

E'l cantar che di mezzo I'hemispero 
Traviar ben puo la faticosa Luna, 

E degli occhi suoi auver.ta si gran fuoco 
Ch^ rincerar gli oreccM mi iia poco. 



468 SONNETS. 



Per cei*to i bei vostr'occhi, Donna mia 

Esser non puo che non sian lo mio sole 

Si mi percuoton forte, come ei suole 
Per I'arene di Libia cbi s'invia, 
Mentre un caldo vapor (ne senti pria) H 

Da quel lato si spinge ove mi duole, 

Che forse amanti nelle lor parole 
Chiaman sospir, io non so che si sia : 

Parte rinchiusa, e turbida si cela 
Scosso mi il petto, e poi n'uscendo poco IC 

Quivi d'attorno o s'ag-ghiaccia, o s'ingiela : 
Ma quanto a gli occhi giunge a trovar loco 

Tutte le notti a me suol far piovose 

Finche mia Alba rivien colma di rose. 

VI. 

GiovANE piano, e semplicetto amante 

Poi che fuggir me stesso in dubbio sono. 

Madonna a voi del mio cuor Fhumil done 
Faro divoto ; io certo a prove tante 
L'hebbi fedele, intrepido, costante, 5 

De pensieri leg'giadro, accorto, e buono ; 

Quando rug-g'e il gran mondo, e scocca 11 tuono, 
S*arma di se, e d' intero diamante, 

Tanto del forse, e d' invidia sicuro, 
Di timori, e speranze al popol use 10 

Quanto d'ingegno, e d'alto valor vago, 
E di cetta sonora, e delle muse : 

Sol troverete in tal parte men duro 

Ove Amor mise I'insanabil ago. 

VII. 

ON HIS BEING ARRIVED TO THE AGE OF 
TWENTY-THREE. 

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth. 
Stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year! 
My hasting days fly on with full career. 

But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th. 



SONNETS. 469 

Perhaps my semblance might deceivo the truth, 5 
That I to manhood am arrived so near, 
And inward ripeness doth much less appear, 

That some more timely-happy spirits indueth. 
Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow. 

It shall be still in strictest measure even 10 

To that same lot, however mean or high, 

Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven ; 
All is, if I have grace to use it so, 
As ever in my great Task-master's eye. 

VIII. 

"WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED 
TO THE CITY. 

Captain or Colonel, or Knight in arms. 
Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize^ 
If deed of honour did thee ever please, 

Guard them, and him within protect from harms. 

He can requite thee, for he knows the charms 5 

That call fame on such g-entle acts as these. 
And he can spread thy name o'er lands and seas. 

Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms. 
Lift not thy spear against the Muses' bower : 

The great Emathian conqueror* bid spare 10 

The house of Pindarus, when temple' and tower 

Went to the ground : and the repeated air 
Of sad Electra's poet had the power 

To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare. 

IX. 

TO A VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY. 

Lad\ , that in the prime of earliest youth 
Wisely hath shunn'd the broad way and the green. 
And with those few art eminently seen. 
That labour up the hill of heavenly truth. 
The better part with Mary and with Ruth 5 

* Emathian conqueror; Alexander, who spared the house of 
Pindar when he destroyed Thebes.— jBZ^c^ra'* poet; Euripides, 
6ome lines in whose tragedy saved Athens frona being totally de- 
stroyed by Lysander. 



470 SONNETS. 

Chosen thou hast ; and they that overween. 
And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen. 
No anger find in thee, but pity' and ruth. 
Thy care is fix'd, and zealously attends 9 

To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light. 
And hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be sure 
Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends 
Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night. 
Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure. 

X. 

TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY. 

Daughter to that good Earl, once president 
Of England's council, and her treasury. 
Who lived in both, unstain'd with gold or fee, 

And left them both, more in himself content. 

Till sad the breaking of that Parliament* 5 

Broke him, as that dishonest victory 
At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty, 

Kill'd with report that old man eloquent. 
Though later born than to have known the days 
Wherein your father flourish'd, yet by you, 

Madam, methinks I see him living yet; II 

So well your words his noble virtues praise. 
That all both judge you to relate them true. 

And to possess them, honour'd Margaret. 

XI. 

ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED UPON 
MY WRITING CERTAIN TREATISES. 

A BOOK was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,+ 
And woven close, both matter, form and style ; 
The subject new ; it walk'd the town a while. 

Numbering good intellects ; now seldom pored on. 

Cries the stall-reader, Bless us ! what a word on 5 

* The parliament here mentioned was dissolved March 10, 
1628. The victory was that gained by Philip of Macedon over 
the Athenians : and the old man was Isocrates, who died with 
grief when the tidings were broug-ht to him of the event. 

t The treatise on divorce, which Milton wrote, is here alluded 
to. The persons mentioned were some ri?id presbyterians, who 
look offence, and very justly, at some of the opinions started. 



SONNETS 471 

A title-pag'e is this! and some in file 

^tand spelling- false, while one might walk to Mile 
End-Green. Why is it harder. Sirs, than Gordon, 

Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp? 9 

Those rugg'ed names to our like mouths grow sleek, 

That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp. 
Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek, 

Hated not learning worse than toad or asp. 
When thou taught'st Cambridge, and King Edward, 
Greek. 

XII. 

ON THE SAME. 

I DID but prompt the age to quit their clogs 
By the known rules of ancient lib* rty, 
When straight a barbarous noise environs me 

Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes and dogs : 4 

As when those hinds that were transform'd to frogs 
Rail'd at Latona's twin-boi-n progeny, 
W^hich after held the sun and moon in fee. 

But this is got by casting pearl to hogs ; 
That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood, 

And still revolt when Truth would set them free. 10 

Licence they mean when they cry Liberty ; 
For who loves that must first be wise and good ; 

But from that mark how far they rove we see 
For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood. 

XIIL 

TO MR. H. LAWES* ON HIS AIRS. 

Harry, whose tuneful and well-measured song 
First taught our English music how to span 
Words with just note and accent, not to scan 

With Midas' ears, committing short and long ; 4 

Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng. 
With praise enough for Envy to look wan ; 
To after age thou shalt be writ the man 

That with smooth air could'st humour best our tongue. 

« Mr. Lawes was one of the Kind's musicians, and an intimate 
friend of Milton. He is supposed to have been frequently a^ 
luded to in the Coraus and Arcades of our author. 



472 SONNETS. 

Thou honour'st verse, and verse must Lend her wing 
To honour thee, the priest of Phoebus' quire, 10 

That tun'st their happiest lines in hymn or story. 
Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher 

Than his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing 

Met in the milder shades of Purgatory. 

XIV. 

ON THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OP 

M S. CATHARINE THOMSON, MY CHRISTIAN FRIEND, 

DECEASED 16 DEC. 1646. 

I When faith and love, which parted from thee never, 
I Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God, 
/ Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load 
Of death, call'd life ; which us from life doth sever. 
Thy works and alms and all thy good endeavour 5 
Stay'd not behind, nor in the grave were trod. 
But as faith pointed with her golden rod, 
Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever. 

Love led them on, and Faith who knew them best 
Thy hand-maids, clad them o'er with purple beams 
And azure wings, that up they flew so drest, 11 
And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes 

Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest 
And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams. 

XV. 

TO THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX. 

Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings, 
Filling each mouth with envy or with praise. 
And all her jealous monarchs with amaze. 

And rumours loud that daunt remotest kings, 

Thy firm unshaken virtue ever brings 5 

Victory home, though new rebellions raise 
Their Hydra heads, and the false North displays 

Her broken league to imp their serpent wings. 
O yet a nobler task awaits thy hand, 

(For what can war, but endless war still breed ?) 10 

Till truth and right from violence be freed, 

And public faith clear'd from the shameful brand 

Of public fraud. In vain doth Valour bleed. 
While Avarice and Rapine share the land. 



SONNETS. 473 

XVI. 

TO THE LORD GENERAL CROMWELL. 

Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud 
Not of war only, but detractions rude. 
Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, 

To peace and truth thy glorious way hast plough'd. 

And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud 5 

Hast rear'd God's trophies, and his work pursued, 
While Darwen stream, with blood of Scots imbued, 
And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud, 

And Worcester's laureat wreath. Yet much remains 
To conquer still ; Peace hath her victories 10 

No less renown'd than War ; new foes arise 

Threat'ning to bind our souls with secular chains : 
Help us to save free conscience from the paw 
Of hireling wolves, whose g'ospel is their maw. 

XVII. 

TO SIR HENRY VANE, THE YOUNGER. 

Vane, young in years, but in sage counsel old, 
Than whom a better senator ne'er held 
The helm of Rome, when gowns not arms repell'd 

The fierce Epirot and the African bold. 

Whether to settle peace, or to unfold 5 

The drift of hollow states hard to be spell'd. 
Then to advise how War may, best upheld. 

Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold. 
In all her equipage : besides to know 
Both spiritual pow'r and civil, what each means. 

What severs each, thou' hast learn'd, which few 
have done : H 

The bounds of either sword to thee we owe : 
Therefore on thy firm hand Religion leans 

In peace, and reckons thee her eldest sen. 



4T4 SONNETS. 

XVIII. 

ON THE LA.TE MASSACRE IN PIEMONT.* 

Avenge, O Lord, thy slaug-liter'd saints, whose bonefi 

Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold ; 

Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old. 
When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones, 
Forget not ; in thy book record their groans 5 

Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold 

Slain by the bloody Piemontese that roll'd 
Mother with infant down the I'ocks. Their moans 

The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 
To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow 10 

O'er all th' Italian fields, where still doth sway 
The triple Tyrant ; that from these may grow 

A hundred fold, who having learn'd thy way 
Early may fly the Babylonian woe. 

XIX. 

ON HIS BLINDNESS. 

When I consider how my light is spent 

Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, 
And that one talent which is death to hide. 

Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent 

To serve therewith my Maker, and present 5 

My true account, lest he returning chide ; 

* Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd V 

I fondly ask : But Patience, to prevent 

That murmur, soon replies, * God doth not need 

Either man's work or his own gifts ;'^who best 10 
/^ Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best : his state 
Is kingly ; thousands at his bidding speed. 

And post o'er land and ocean without rest ; 

They also serve who only stand and wait.* \ 

* The massacre in Piemont formed a part of the fearful perse- 
cutions which the Vaudois, or Protestants of that country, suf- 
fered from the Church of Rome. An abstract of this appalling 
portion of modern church history may be found in Dr. M'Crie's 
admirable work on the Reformation in Italy, and in Mr. Gillie's 
lourney to the \ alleys of the Vaudois. 



SONNETS. 



m 



XX. 

TO MU. LAWRENCE.* 

Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son. 
Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire. 
Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire 

Help waste a sullen day, what may be won 

From the hard season gaining 1 time will run 5 

On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire 
The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire 

The lily' and rose, that neither sow'd nor spun. 
What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice 

Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise 10 
To hear the lute well touched, or artful voice 
Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air? 
He who of those delights can judge, and spare 

To interpose them oft, is not unwise. 

XXI. 



TO CYRIAC SKINNER.f 

Cyriac, whose grandsire on the royal bench 
Of British Themis, with no mean applause 
Pronounced, and in his volumes taught, our laws, 

Which others at their bar so often wrench ; 

To-day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench 5 
In mirth, that after no repenting draws ; 
Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause. 

And what the Swede intends, and what the French. 
To measure life learn thou betimes, and know 

Toward solid good what leads the nearest way ; 10 

For other things mild Heav'n a time ordains. 

And disapproves that care, though wise in show, 

That with superfluous burden loads the day, 

And when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains. 

* Mr, Lawrence was son of the president of 

Croravvell's council. 
t Cyriac. Skinner was a pupiJ of Milton's. 



476 SONNETS. 

XXII. 

TO THE SAME. 

Cyriac, this three years' day these eyes, tho' clear. 
To outward view, of bler^ish or of spot, 
Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot, 

Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear 

Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, 5 

Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not 
Against Heav'n's hand or will, nor bate a jot 

Of heart or hope ; but still bear up and steer 
Right onward. What supports me 1 dost thou ask : 

The conscience. Friend, to' have lost them overply'd 
In Liberty's defence, my noble task, 11 

Of which all Europe rings from side to side. 
This thought might lead me thro' the world's vain 

Content though blind, had I no better guide. Tmask 

XXIII. 

ON HIS DECEASED WIFE.* 

Methought I saw my late-espoused saint 
Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave, 
Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, 

Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint. 

Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed taint 
Purification in the old law did save, 6 

And such, as yet once more I trust to have 

Full sight of her in Heav'n without restraint. 
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind : 

Her face was veil'd, yet to my fancied sight 10 

Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined 

So clear, as in no face with more delight. 
But O, as to embrace me she inclined, 

I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night. 

* On his deceased wife y his second wife, who died about a year 
after their inarriag"e. — Alcestis was kina: of Tiiessaly, and bein<j 
on the point of death, was restored to life by liis wife's voluntarily 
offering herself to Apollo in his stead. Hercules afterward suc- 
ceeded in rescuing her from the shades. 



PSALMS. 



PSALM I. 

(Done into verse, 1653.) 
Bless'd is the man who hath not walk'd astray 
In counsel of the wicked, and i' th' way 
Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat 
Of scorners hath not sat. But in the gi*eat 
Jehovah's law is ever his delight, 
And in his law he studies day and night. 
He shall be as a tree which planted grows 
By watery streams, and in his season knows 
To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall. 
And what he takes in hand shall prosper all. ID 

Not so the wicked, but as chaff v/hich fann'd 
The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand 
In judgment, or abide their trial then. 
Nor sinners in th' assembly of just raen. 
For the Lord knows th' upright way of the just, 15 
And the way of bad men to ruin must. 

PSALM II. 

(Done Au^. 8, 1653.) 
Terzette. 

Why do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations 

Muse a vain thing, the kings of th' earth upstand 
With power, and princes in their congi-egations 

Lay deep their plots together through each land 
Against the Lord and his Messiah dear 1 5 

Let us break oif, say they, by strength of hand 
Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear 

Their twisted cords : he who in Heav'n doth dwell 
Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then severe 

Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell 10 

And fierce ire trouble them ; But I, saith he. 

Anointed have my King (though ye rebel) 
On Sif.n my holy hill. A firm decree 

1 will declare ; the Lord to me hath said. 



478 PSALMS. 

Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee 15 

This day ; ask of me, and the grant is made ; 
As thy possession I on thee bestow 

Th' Heathen, and as thy conquest to be sway'd 
Earth's utmost bounds ; them shalt thou bring full low 

With iron sceptre bruised, and them disperse 20 
Like to a potter's vessel shiver'd so. 

And now be wise at length, ye Kings averse, 
Be taught ye Judges of the earth ; with fear 

Jehovah serve, and let your joy converse 
With trembling ; kiss the Son lest he appear 25 

In anger, and ye perish in the way, 
If once his wrath take fire like fuel sere. 

Happy all those who have in him their stay. 

PSALM in. 

(Aug. 9, 1653.) 

JVhen he Jled from Absalom. 

Lord, how many are my foes? 
How many those 

That in arms against me rise ! 
Many are they 
That of my life distrustfully thus say, 5 

No help for him in God there lies. 
But thou, Lord, art my shield, my glory. 
Thee through my story 

Th' exalter of my head I count ; 
Aloud I cried ' 10 

Unto Jehovah, he full soon replied 

And heard me from his holy mount. 
I lay and slept, I waked again, 
For my sustain 

Was the Lord. Of many millions 15 

The populous rout 
I fear not, though encamping round about 

They pitch against rae their pavilions. 
Rise, Lord, save me, my God, for thou 
Hast smote ere now 20 

On the cheek-bone all my foes. 
Of men abhorr'd 
Hast broke the teeth. This help was from the Lord; 

Thy blessing on thy people flows. 



PSALMS. 


479 


PSALM IV. 




CAug. 10, 1653.) 




Answer me when I call. 




God of my righteousness. 




In straits and in distress 




Thou didst me diseuthraJ 


5 


And set at large ; now spare, 




Now pity me, and hear my earnest prayr. 




Great ones how long* will ye 




My glory have in scorn, 




How long be thus foreborn 




Still to love vanity. 


10 


To love, to seek, to prize 




Things false and vain, and nothing else but lies? | 


Yet know, the Lord hath chose, 




Chose to himself a part. 




The good and meek of heart. 


5 


(For whom to choose he knows) 




Jehovah from on high 




Will hear my voice what time to him 1 cry. 




Be awed, and do not sin. 




Speak to your hearts alone, 


20 


Upon your beds, each one. 




And be at peace within. 




Offer the offerings just 




Of righteousness, and in Jehovah trust. 




Many there be that say 


25 


Who yet will shew us good 1 




Talking like this world's brood ; 




But, Lord, thus let me pray. 




On us lift up the light. 




Lift up the favour of thy oount'nance bright. 


30 


Into my heart more joy 




And gladness thou hast put. 




Than when a year of glut 




Their stores doth over-cloy. 




And from their plenteous grounds 


35 


With vast increase their com and wine abounds. || 


In peace at once will I 




Both lay me down and sleep. 




21 





480 PSALMS. 

For thou alone dost keep 
Me safe where'er I lie ; 
As in a rocky cell 
Thou, Lord, alone in safety mak'st me dwelL 



PSALM V. 

CAu?. 12, 1653.) 

Jehovah, to my words give ear, 

My meditation weigh, 
The voice of ray complaining- hear 

My God and King ; for unto thee I pray. 
Jehovah, thou my early voice 5 

Shalt in the morning hear, 
I* th' morning I to thee with choice 

Will rank my pray'rs, and watch till thou appear. 
For thou art not a God that takes 

In wickedness delight. 10 

Evil with thee no biding makes. 

Fools or bad men stand not within thy sight. 
All workers of iniquity 

Thou hat'st ; and them unblest 
Thou wilt destroy that speak a lie ; 15 

The bloody' and guileful man God doth detest. 
But I will in thy mercies dear, 

Tliy numerous mercies, go 
Into thy house ; I in thy fear 

Will tow'rds -hy holy temple worship low. 20 

Lord, lead me in thy righteousness. 

Lead me because of those 
That do observe if I transgress ; 

Set thy ways right before, where my step goes. 
For in his falt'ring mouth unstable 25 

No word is firm or sooth ; 
Their inside, troubles miserable ; 

An open grave their throat, their tongue they 
God, find them guilty, let them fall [smooth. 

By their own counsels quell'd ; 30 

Push them in their rebellions all 

Still on ; for against thee they have rebell'd. 
Then all who trust in thee shall bring 

Their joy, while thou from blame 



PSALMS. 481 

Defend'st them, they shall ever sin^ 35 

And shall triumph in thee, who love thy name. 

For thou, Jehovah, wilt he found 
To bless the just man still. 

As with a shield thou wilt surround 

Him with thy lasting favour and good will. 40 

PSALM VL 

(Aug-. 13, 1653.^ 

Lord, in thine ang-er do not reprehend me. 
Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct ; 
Pity me, Lord, for I am much deject, 

And very weak and faint ; heal and amend me : 

For all my bones that ev'n with anguish ache, 5 
Are troubled, yea my soul is troubled sore. 
And thou, O Lord, how long- ? turn. Lord, restore 

My soul, O save me for thy goodness' sake : 

For in death no remembrance is of thee ; 

Who in the grave can celebrate thy prais;e ? 10 
Wearied I am with sighing out my days. 

Nightly my couch I make a kind of sea ; 

My bed I water with my tears ; mine eye 
Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dark 
I' th' midst of all mine enemies that mark. 15 

Depart all ye that work iniquity. 

Depart from me, for the voice of my weeping 
The Lord hath heard, the Lord hath heard my 
My supplication with acceptance fair [pray'r. 

The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping. 

Mine enemies shall be all blank and dash'd 20 

With much confusion ; then grown red with shame. 
They shall return in haste the v/ay they came, 

And in a moment shall be quite abash'd. 

PSALM vn. 

(Au?. 14, 1653.) 

Upon the words of Cush the Benjamite against Mm* 

Lord, my God, to thee I fly. 

Save me, and secure me under 
Thy protection while I cry. 

Lest a lion (and no wonder) 
Y 



482 PSALMS. 

He haste to tear my soul asunder, 5 

Tearing and no rescue nigh. 
Lord, my God, if I have thought 

Or done this, if wickedness 
Be in my hands, if I have wrought 

111 to him that meant me peace, 

Or to him have render'd less. 
And not freed my foe for nought ; 
Let th' enemy pursue my soul 

And overtake it, let him tread 
My life down to the earth, and roll 15 

In the dust my glory dead, 

In the dust, and there out-spread 
Lodge it with dishonour foul. 
Rise, Jehovah, in thine ire, 

Rouse thyself amidst the rage 20 

Of my foes that urge like fire ; 

And wake for me, their fury' assuage ; 

Judgment here thou didst engage 
And command, which I desire. 
So th' assemblies of each nation 25 

Will surround thee, seeking right. 
Thence to thy glorious habitation 

Return on high and in their sight. 

Jehovah judgeth most upright 
All people from the world's foundation. 30 

Judge me, Lord, be judge in this 

According to my righteousness. 
And the innocence which is 

Upon me : cause at length to cease 

Of evil men the wickedness 35 

And their pow'r that do amiss. 
But the just establish fast, 

Since thou art the just God that tries 
Hearts and reins. On God is cast 

My defence, and in him lies, 40 

In him who, both just and wise, 
Saves th' upright of heart at last. 
God is a just judge and severe. 

And God is every day offended ; 
If the unjust will not forbear, 45 

His sword he whets, his bow hath bended 



PSALMS. 483 

Already, and for him intended 
The tools of death, that waits him near. 
(His an-ows purposely made he 

For them that persecute.) Behold 5U 

He travels big with vanity. 
Trouble he hath conceived of old 
As in a womb, and from that mould 
Hath at length brought forth a lie. 
He digg'd a pit, and delved it deep, 55 

And fell into the pit he made ; 
His mischief that due course doth keep, 
Turns on his head, and his ill trade 
Of violence will undelay'd 
Fall on his crown with ruin steep. GO 

Then will I Jehovah's praise 
According to his justice raise, 
And sing the Name and Deity 
Of Jehovah the Most High. 

PSALM VIIL 

(Aug. 14, 1653.) 

Jehovah our Lord, how wondrous great 

And glorious is thy name through all the earth 1 
So as above the Heav'ns thy praise to set 

Out of the tender mouths of latest birth. 
Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou 5 

Hast founded strength because of all thy foes, 
To stint the enemy, and slack th' avenger's brow. 

That bends his rage thy providence to' oppose. 
When I behold thy Heav'ns, thy fingers' art, 9 

The moon and stars which thou so bright hast set 
In the pure firmament, then saith my heart, 

O what is man that thou rememb'rest yet. 
And think'st upon him ; or of man begot. 

That him thou visit'st, and of him art found ? 
Scarce to be less than gods, thou mad'st his lot, 15 

With honour and with state thou hast him crov/n'd. 
O'er the works of thy hand thou mad'st him Lord, 

Thou hast put all under his lordly feet. 
All flocks, and herds, by thy commanding word, 

All beasts that in the field or forest meet, 20 



484 PSALMS. 

Fowl of the Heav'ns, and fish that through the wet 
Sea paths in shoals do slide, and know no dearth.. 

O Jehovah our Lord, how wondrous g-reat 
And glorious is thy name through all the earth! 



Nhie of the Psalms done into metre^ wherein all, 
hut what is in a different character, are the very 
words of the text, translated from the original. — 
April, 1648. J. M. 

PSALM LXXX. 

1 Thou Shepherd that dost Israel keef 
Give ear in time of need. 

Who leadest like a flock of sheep 

Thy loved Joseph's seed, 
That sit'st between the Cheruhs bright, 6 

Between their wings out-svread, 
Shine forth, and from thy cloud give light, 

And on our foes thy dread, 

2 In Ephraim's view and Benjamin's, 

And m Manasse's sight, 10 

Awake * thy strength, come, and be seen * Gnorera, 
To save vis by thy might, 

3 Turn us again, thy grace divine 
To us, O God, vouchsafe ; 

Cause thou thy face on us to shine, 16 

And then we shall be safe. 

4 Lord God of Hosts, how long wilt thou. 
How long wilt thou declare 

Thy * smoking wrath, and angry brow * Gnashanta, 
Against thy people's pray 'r I 20 

5 Thou feed'§t them with the bread of tears. 
Their bread with tears they eat, 

And niak'st them * largely drink the tears * Shalish, 
Wherewith their cheeks are wet, 

6 A strife thou mak'st us and a prey 25 
To every neighbour foe. 

Among themselves they * laugh, they * plfiy, 

And * flouts at us they throw, * Jilgnagu, 



PSALMS. 


485 


f Return us, and thy grace divine, 




God of Hosts, vouchsafe. 


30 


Cause thou thy face ou us to shine. 




And then we shall be safe. 




8 A vine fi-om Egypt thou hast broug"ht. 




Thy free love made it thine. 




And drov'st out nations, 'proud and haut. 


35 


To plant this lovely vine. 




9 Thou didst prepare for it a place. 




And root it deep and fast. 




That it began to grow apace, 




And fill'd the land at last. 


40 


19 With her green shade that cover'd all 




The hills were over-spread, 




Her boughs as high as cedars tall 




Advanced their lofty head. 




11 Her branches on the western side 


45 


Down to the sea she sent. 




And upward to that river tvide 




Her other branches went. 




12 Why hast thou laid her hedges low. 




And broken down her fence. 


50 


That all may pluck her, as they go. 




With rudest violence ? 




13 The tusked boar out of the wood 




Up turns it by the roots, 




Wild beasts there brouze, and make their food 


55 


Her grapes and tender shoots. 




14 Return now, God of Hosts, look down 




From Heav'n, thy seat divine. 




Behold us, but zvithout a frown. 




And visit this thy vine. 


GO 


15 Visit this vine, which thy right hand 




Hath set, and planted long, 




And the young- branch, that for thyself 




Thou hast made firm and strong. 




16 But now it is consumed with fire. 


85 


And cut with axes down. 




They perish at thy dreadful ire. 




At thy rebuke and frown. 





486 PSALMS 

17 Upon the Man of thy right hand 

Let thy good hand be laid, tQ 

Upon the Son of man, -whom thou 
Strong' for thyself hast made. 

18 So shall we not go back from thee 
To loays of sin and shame. 

Quicken iis thou, then gladly we 7a. 

Shall call upon thy name. 

19 Return us, and thy grace divine. 
Lord God of Hosts, vouchsafe. 

Cause thou thy face on us to shine, 
And then we shall be safe. 80 

PSALM LXXXI 

1 To God our strength sing loud, and clear. 
Sing loud to God our King ; 

To Jacob's God, that all may hear, 
Loud acclamations ring'. 

2 Prepare a hymn, prepare a song", 5 
The timbrel hither bring, 

Ihe cheerful psaltry bring along-. 
And harp with pleasant string. 

3 Blow, as is ivont, in the new moon 

With trumpet's lofty sound, 10 

Tb' appointed time, the day whereon 
Our solemn feast comes round. 

4 This Avas a statute giveti of old 
For Israel to observe, 

A law of Jacob's God, to hold, 15 

From vjhence they might not swerve, 

5 This he a testimony-* ordain'd 
In Joseph, not to change. 

When as he pass'd through Egypt land ; 

The tongue I heard was strange. 20 

6 From burden a7id from slavish toil 
1 set his shoulder free ; 

His hands from pots and miry soil 
Deliver'd were by me. 



PSALMS. 487 

7 When trouble did thee sore assail 25 
On me then didst thou call. 

And I to free thee did not fail. 

And led thee out of thrall. 
I answer'd thee * in thunder deep * Besetherragnam, 

With clouds encompass'd round ; 30 

I tried thee at the water steep 

Of Meriba renowti'd. 

8 Hear, O my people, hearken well, 
I testify to thee, 

Thou ancient stock of Israel, 35 

If thou wilt list to me, 

9 Throughout the land of thy 
Mo alien g-od shall be. 

Nor shalt thou to a foreign god 
In honour bend thy knee. 40 

10 I am the Lord thy God which brought 
Thee out of Egypt land ; 

Ask large enough, and I, besought, 
Will grant thy full demand. 

11 And yet my people would not hear 45 
Nor hearken to my voice ; 

And Israel, whom I loved so dear, 
Misliked me for his choice. 

12 Then did I leave them to their will. 

And to their wand'ring mind ; 60 

Their own conceits they follow 'd still. 
Their own devices blind. 

13 O that my people would be wise, 
To serve me all their days, 

And O that Israel would advise 55 

To Avalk my righteous ways ! 

14 Then would I soon bring down their foes. 
That now so proudly rise, 

And turn my hand against all those 

That are their enemies. 60 

15 Who hate the Lord should then be fain 
To bow to him and bend, 

But they, his people, should remain. 
Their time should have no end 



488 PSALMS. 

16 And he would feed them from the shock 65 

With flour of finest wheat. 
And satisfy them from the rock 

With honey /or their meat, 

PSALM LXXXII 

1 God in the * great assembly stands * Bagna- 
Of kings and lordly states, dath-el, 

* Among the gods, * on both his hands * Bekerev* 
He judges and debates. 

2 How long will ye * pervert the right * Tishphetu 
With * judgment false and wrong, [gnavel. 

Favouring the wicked by your might. 
Who thence grow bold and strong ? 

3 * Regard the * weak and fatherless, 

* Dispatch the * poor man's cause, * Shiphtu-dal. 

And t raise the man in deep distress, 11 

By -t just and equal laws. t Hatxdiku. 

4 Defend the poor and desolate. 
And rescue from the hands 

Of wicked men the low estate 15 

Of him that help demands. 

5 They know not, nor will understand, 
in darkness they walk on. 

The earth's foundations all are * moved. 

And * out of order gone. * Jimmotu, 

6 I said that ye were Gods, yea all 21 
The sons of God most high ; 

7 But ye shall die like men, and fall 
As other princes die. 

8 Rise God, * judge thou the earth in might, 25 
Tliis wicked earth * redress, * Shiphta. 

For thou art he who shalt by right 
The nations all possess. 

PSALM LXXXIII. 

1 Be not thou silent now at length, 

O God, hold not thy peace. 
Sit thou not still, O God of strength. 

We cry and do not cease* 



PSALMS. 


489 


2 For lo ! thy furious foes 710 w * swell, 


5 


And * storm outrageously, * 


Jchemojun. 


And they that hate thee 'jn'oud and fell 




Exalt their heads full high. 




3 Ag-ainst thy people they * contrive * 


Jagnarinm. 


t Their plots and counsels deep. 


t Sod. 


* Them to ensnare they chiefly strive *,firthjagnatsu gnaU 


t Whom thoa dost hide and keep, f Tsephuncka 


4 Come let us cut them off, say they, 




Till they no nation be, 




That Israel's name for ever may 


15 


Be lost in memory. 




5 For they consult * with all their might. 


* Levjach 


And all as one in mind, 


[dau. 


Themselves against thee they unite. 




And in firm union bind. 


20 


6 The tents of Edom, and the brood 




Of scornful Ishmael, 




Moab, with them of Hagar's blood, 




That in the desert dwell. 




7 Gebal and Ammon there conspire, 


i5 


And hateful Amalec, 




The Philistines, and they of Tyre, 




Whose bounds the sea doth check. 




8 With them great Ashur also bands, 




And doth confirm the knot : 


30 


All these have lent their armed hands 




To aid the sons of Lot. 




9 Do to them as to Midian bold. 




That wasted all the coast. 




To Sisera, and as is told 


3d 


Thou didst to Jabin's host. 




When at the brook of Kishon old 




They were repulsed and slain. 




10 At Endor quite cut off", and roU'J 




As dung upon the plain. 


to 


11 As Zeb and Oreb evil sped. 




So let their princes speed. 




As Zeba and Zalmunna bled, 




So let their princes bleed i 




Y2 





490 PSALMS. 

12 For they amidst their 'pride have said, 45 
By right now shall we seize 

God's houses, and tvill nozu invade 
t Their stately palaces, f Neoth Elohim bears both. 

13 My God, oh make them as a wheel. 

No quiet let them find y 50 

Giddy and restless let them reel 
Like stubble from the wind. 

4 As tvhen an aged \yood takes lire 

Which on a sudden strays. 
The greedy flames run higher and higher, 55 

Till all the mountains blaze, 

15 So with thy whirlwind them pursue. 
And witb thy tempest chase ; 

16 + And, till they i yield thee honour due. 

Lord, flU with shame their face. 60 

t Heb. They seek thy Name. 

17 Ashamed and troubled let them be, 
Troubled, and shamed for ever. 

Ever confounded, and so die 
With shame, and 'scape it never. 

18 Then shall they know that thou, whose name 65 
Jehovah is alone. 

Art the Most High, a7id thou the same 
O'er all the earth art one. 

PSALM LXXXIV. 

1 How lovely are thy dwellings fair! 
O Lord of Hosts, how dear 

The jileasa7it tabernacles are. 
Where thou dost divell so near i 

2 My soxxl doth lon^ and almost die 
Thy courts O Lord to see. 

My heart and flesh aloud do cry, 
O living God, for thee. 

3 There ev'n the sj^slttow freed from wrong 

Hath found a house of rest, 10 

The swallow there, to lay her young'. 
Hath built her brooding nest. 



PS>LMS. 


491 


Ev'n "by thy altars, Lord of Hosts, 




They find their safe abode. 




And home they fly from round the coasts 


15 


Toward thee, my King, iny God. 




4 Happy, who in thy house reside. 




Where thee they ever praise, 




5 Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide. 




And in their hearts thy ways. 


20 


(J They pass through Baca's thirsty vale. 




That dry and barren ground. 




As through a fruitful watery dale 




Where springs and show'rs abound. 




7 They journey on from strength to strength 


25 


With Joy and gladsome cheer. 




Till all before our God at length 




In Sion do appear. 




8 Lord God of Hosts, hear now my pray'r. 




Jacob's God, give ear, 


SO 


9 Thou God, our shield, look on the face 




Of thy anointed dear. 




10 For one day in thy courts to be 




Is better, and more blest. 




Than in the joys of vanity 


35 


A thousand days at best. 




I, in the temple of my God 




Had rather keep a door. 




Than dwell in tents, and rich abode. 




With sin /or evermore. 


40 


.11 For God the Lord, both sun and shield. 




Gives grace and glory bright. 




No good from them shall be withheld 




Whose ways are just and right. 




12 If rd God of Hosts, that reign*st on high, 


45 


That man is truly blest. 




Who only on thee doth rely. 




And in thee only rest. 





492 



PSALMS. 



PSALM LXXXV 

1 Thy land to favour graciously 
Thou hast not, Lord, been slaci 

Thou hast from hard captivity 
Returned Jacob back. 

2 Til' iniquity thou didst forgive 5 
That wrought thy people woe. 

And all their sin, that did thee grieve. 
Hast hid tvhere none shall know. 

3 Thine ane:er all thou hadst removed. 

And calmly didst return 10 

From thy \ fierce wrath which we had proved 
Far worse than fire to burn. 

t Heb. The burning heat of thy wrath, 

4 God of our saving- health and peace, 
Turn us, and us restore, 

Thine indignation cause to cease 15 

Tow'rds us, and chide no more. 

5 Wilt thou be angry without end. 
For ever angry thus, 

Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend 

From age to age on us 1 20 

6 Wilt thou not * turn, and Iiear our voice, 

And us again * revive, * Heb. Turn to quicken us. 
That so thy people may rejoice 
By thee preserved alive 1 

7 Cause us to see thy goodness. Lord, 25 
To us thy mercy shew, 

Thy saving health to us afford, 

A nd life in us reneiv. 
% And now what God the Lord will speak, 

I will ^0 straight and hear, 30 

For to his people he speaks peace. 

And to his saints full dear. 
To his dear saints he will speak peace ; 

But let them never more 
Return to folly, but surcease ^^ 

To trespass as before. 



PSALMS. 


493 


9 Surely to such as do )iim fear 
Salvation is at hand. 
And glory shall ere long appear 
To dwell within our land. 


40 


10 Mercy and truth that long were miss'd 
Now joyfuliy are met, 
Sweet Peace and Righteousness have kiss'd, 
Atid hand in hand are set. 




11 Truth from the earth, like to a flower. 
Shall bud and blossom then. 
And Justice from her heavenly bower 
Look down on mortal men. 


45 


12 The Lord will also then bestow 
Whatever thing is good, 
Our land shall forth in plenty throw 
Her fruits to be our food. 


50 


13 Before him Righteousness shall go. 
His royal harbinger, 
Then* will he come, and not be slow. 
His footsteps cannot err. 


55 


PSALM LXXXVL 




1 Thy gracious ear, Lord, incline, 
hear me I thee pray. 
For I am poor, and almost pine 
With need, and sad decay. 




2 Preserve my soul, for t I have trod 
Thy ways, and love the just ; 
Save thou thy servant, my God, 
Who still in thee doth trust. 


5 


3 Pity me. Lord, for daily thee 
I call ; 4. make rejoice 
Thy servant's soul ; for. Lord, to thee 
I lift my soul and voice. 


10 


* Heb. He will set his steps to the way. 
t Heb. I am good, loving; a doer of good and holy things* 



494 PSALMS. 






5 For thou art good, thou Lora art prone 






To pardon, thou to all 






Art full of mercy, thou alone 


IS 




To them that on thee call. 






6 Unto my supplication, Lord, 






Give ear, and to the cry 






Of my incessant prayers afford 






Thy hearing graciously. 


ae 




7 I in the day of my distress 






Will call on thee for aid; 






For thou wilt grant me free access. 






And answer what I pray'd. 






8 Like thee among- the gods is none. 


25 




Lord, nor any works 






Of all that other gods have dofie 






Like to thy glorious works. 






9 The nations all whom thou hast made 






Shall come, and all shall frame 


^0 




To bow them low before thee, Lord, 






And glorify thy name. 






10 For great thou art, and wonders great 






By thy strong hand are done. 






Thou in thy everlasting seat 


35 




Remainest God alone. 






11 Teach me, Lord, thy way 7nost right, 






I in thy truth will bide, 






To fear thy name my heart unite, 






So shall it fiever slide. 


4*1 




12 Thee will I praise, Lord my God, 






Thee honour and adore 






With my whole heart, and blaze abroad 






Thy name for evermore. 






13 For great thy mercy is toward me. 


45 




And thou hast freed my soul. 






Even from the lowest Hell set free, 






Fro?n deepest darkness foul. 






14 God, the proud against me rise. 






And violent men are met 


SQ 




To seek my life, and in their eyes 






No fear of thee have set. 







PSALMS. 495 

15 But thou, Lord, art the God most mild, 

Readiest thy g-race to shew, 
Slow to be angry, and art styled 55 

Most merciful, most true. 

16 turn to me tJiy face at lengthy 

And me have mercy on. 
Unto thy servant give thy strength, 
And save thy handmaid's son. 60 

17 Some sign of good to me afford, 

And let my foes then see, 
And be ashamed, because thou Lord 
Dost help arid comfort me. 

PSALM LXXXVIL 

1 Among the holy mountains high 

Is his foundation fast, 
There seated is his sanctuary ^ 
His temjple there is placed. 

2 Sion's fair gates the Lord loves more 5 

Than all the dwellings fair 
Of Jacob's land, though there be store. 
And all within his care. 

3 City of God, most glorious things 

Of thee abroad are spoke ; 10 

mention Egypt, where 'proud kings 
Did our forefathers yoke, 

4 I mention Babel to my friends, 

Philistia full of scorns 
And Tyre with Ethiops' utmost ends, 15 

Lo this man there was born : 

5 But twice that praise shall in our ear 

Be said of Sion last, 
This and this man was born in her. 

High God shall fix her fast. 20 

6 The Lord shall write it in a scroll 

That ne'er shall be out- worn, 
When he the nations doth inroU, 
That this maa there was born. 
2K 



496 PSALMS. 


7 Both they who sing, and they who dance, 25 


With sacred songs are there, 


In thee fresh brooks and soft streams glance. 


And all my fountains clear. 


PSALM LXXXVIIL 


1 Lord God, thou dost me save and keep. 


All day to thee I cry ; 


And all night long before thee weep, 


Before thee prostrate lie. 


2 Into thy presence let my prayer 5 


With sighs devout ascend, 


And to my cries that ceaseless are, 


Thine ear with favour bend. 


3 For cloy'd with woes and trouble store 


Surcharged my soul doth lie, 10 


My life at death's uncheerfal door 


Unto the grave draws nigh. 


\ Reckon'd I am with them that pass 


Down to the dismal pit ; 


I am a * man, but weak alas, 15 


And for that name unfit. 


5 From life discharged and parted quite 


Among the dead to sleep, 


And like the slain in bloody fight 


That in the grave lie deep, 20 


Whom thou rememberest no more, 


Dost never more regard, 


Them from thy hand deliver'd o'er. 


Death's hideous house hath barr'd. 


6 Thou in the lowest pit profound 25 


Hast set me all forlorn. 


Where thickest darkness hovers rounds 


In horrid deeps to mourn. 


7 Thy wrath, /row ivhich no shelter saves, 


Full sore doth press on me ; 30 


t Thou break'st upon me all thy waves, 


t And all thy waves break me. 


* Heb. A man without manly strength* 


t The Heb. bears both. 



PtSALMS. 


497 


6 Thou dost my friends from me estrange. 
And mak'st me odious. 
Me to them odious, /or they change. 
And I here pent up tlius. 


35 


9 Through sorrow, and affliction great. 
Mine eyes grow dim and dead, 
Lord, all the day 1 thee entreat. 
My hands to thee I spread. 


40 


10 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead ? 
Shall the deceased arise. 
And praise thee from their loathsome bed 
With pale and hollow eyes ? 




11 Shall they thy loving kindness tell 
On whom the grave hath hold ? 
Or they who in perdition divelly 
Thy faithfulness unfold ? 


45 


12 In darkness can thy mighty hand 
Or wondrous acts be known 1 
Thy justice in the gloomy land 
Of dark o\i\i\ion% 


50 


13 But I to thee, Lord, do cry. 
Ere yet my life he spent. 
And up to thee my pray'r doth hie 
Each morn, and thee prevent. 


55 


14 Why wilt thou. Lord, my soul forsake. 

And hide thy face from me ; 

15 That am already bruised, and * shake 

With terror sent from thee ? 
Bruised, and afflicted, and so loio 

As ready to expire. 
While I thy terrors undergo 

Astonish'd with thine ire. 


61 


16 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow. 

Thy threat'nings cut me through • 

17 All day they round about me go. 

Like waves they me pursue. 


65 


* Heb, Pra concusstone. 





498 PSALMS. 

18 Lover and friend thou hast removed. 
And severed from me far : 
They Jly me now whom I have loved. 
And as in darkness are. 



A PARAPHRASE ON PSALM CXIV. 

77iis and the following Psalm were done by the 
Author at ^f teen years old. 

When the blest seed of Terah's faithful son 
After long' toil their liberty had w^on, 
And past from Pharian fields to Canaan land, 
Led by the strength of the Almighty's hand, 
Jehovah's wonders were in Israel shewn, 5 

His praise and glory was in Israel knov/n. 
That saw the troubled sea, and shivering lied, 
And sought to hide his froth-becurled head 
Low in the earth ; Joi'dan's clear streams recoil. 
As a faint host that hath received the foil. 10 

The high, huge-bellied mountains skip like rams 
Amongst their ewes, the little hills like lambs. 
Why fled the ocean'? and why skipt the mountains? 
Why turned Jordan tow'rd his crystal fountains 1 
Shake, earth, and at the presence be aghast 15 

Of Him that ever was, and ay shall last ; 
That glassy floods from rugged rocks can crush. 
And make soft rills from fiery flint-stones g-ush. 



PSALM CXXXVI. 

Let us with a gladsome mind 
Praise the Lord, for he is kind ; 

For his mercies ay endure. 

Ever faithful, ever sure. 

Let us blaze his name abroad, 5 

For of gods he is the God ; 
For his, &c. 

O, let us his praises tell, 

Who doth the wrathful tyrants quell ; 10 

For his. Sec. 



PSALMS. .499 

Who with his miracles doth make 
Amazed Heaven and Earth to shake ; 
For his, &c. 

Who by his wisdom did create 
The painted Heav'ns so full of state ; 
For his, &c. 20 

Who did the solid Earth ordain 
To rise above the watery plain ; 
For his, &c. 

Who by his all-commanding might 
Did fill the new-made world with light; 
For his, 8cc. 

And caused the golden-tressed sun 
All the day long his course to run ; 30 

For his, «&c. 

The horned moon to shine by night. 
Amongst her spangled sisters bright ; 
For his, &c. 

He v/ith his thunder-clasping hand 
Smote the first-born of Egypt land ; 
For his, &c. 40 

And in despite of Pharaoh fell, 
He brought from thence his Israel 
For his, &c. 

The riiddy waves he cleft in twain 
Of the ErythrEean main ; 
For his, «&c 

The floods stood still like walls of glass^ 5^ 

While the Hebrew bands did pass; 
For his, &c. 

But full soon they did devour 
The tawny king with all his power; 
For his, &c. 

Elis chosen people he did bless 
In the wasteful wilderness* 
For his, &c. 



500 PSALM ;^. 

In bloody battle he brought down 
Kings of prowess and renown ; 
For his, &c. 

He foil'd bold Seon and his host. 
That ruled the Amorrean coast ; 
For his, &c. 

And large-limb'd Og he did subdue, 70 

With all his over-hardy crew; 
For his, &c. 

And to his servant Israel 
He gave their land therein to dwell; 
For his, &c. 

He hath with a piteous eye 
Beheld us in our misery ; 
For his, &c. 80 

And freed us from our slavery 
Of the invading enemy ; 
For his, &c. 

All living creatares he doth feed. 
And with full hand supplies their need; 
For his, &c. 

Let us therefore warble forth ©0 

His mighty majesty and worth; 
For his, &c. 

That bis mansion hath on high 
Above the reach of mortal eye ; 

For his mercies ay endure^ 

Ever faithful, ever sure* 



JOANNIS MILTONI 

LONDINENSTS 

POEMATA. 

Quorum plerague intra Annum JStatis 
Vigesimum conscripsit. 

HiEC qxias sequuntur de Authore testimonia, tametsi 
ipse intelligebat non tarn de se quam supra se esse 
dicta, eo quod praeclaro ingenio viri, nee non aitiici 
ita fere solent laudare, ut omnia suis potius virtuti- 
bus, quam veritati congruentia nimis cupide affin- 
gant, nolu.it tamen horum egregiam in se voluntatem 
non esse notam ; cum alii praesertim ut id faceret 
iriagnopere suaderent. Dum enim nimise laudis 
invidiam totis ab se viribus amolitur, sibique quod 
plus aequo est non attributum esse mavult, judicium 
interim hominum cordatorum atque illustrium quin 
summo sibi honori ducat, negare non potest. 

Joannes Baptista Mansus, Marchio Villensis, Nea- 
politaiiuSy ad Joannem Miltonium Angium. 

Ut mens, forma, decor, facies, mos, si pietas sic, 
Non Anglus, verum hercle Angeius ipse fores. 

Ad Joannem Miltonem Angium triplici poeseos lau- 
rea coronandnm, Graca 7iiiniruin, Latina^ atque 
Hetrusca, epigramma Joannis SalsiUi Romani, 

Cede Meles, cedat depressa Mincius urna ; 

Sebetus Tassum desinat usque loqui : 
At Thamesis victor cunctis ferat altior undas. 

Nam per te, Milto, par tribus unus erit. 

Ad Joannem Miltonum. 

Gb^cia Meeonidera, jactet sibi Koma Maronem, 
Anglia Miltonum jactat utrique parem. 

Seivag'gi 



502 DE AUTHORE TESTIMONIA. 

Al Signior Gio. Miltoni nobile Jnglese, 



Ergimi air Etra 6 Clio 
Perche di stelle iiitrecciei*6 corona 

Non piii del Biondo Dio 
La Fronde eterna in Pindo, e in Elicona, 

Diensi a raerto raag'g:ior, maggiori i fregi, C 

A' celeste virtii celesti pregi. 
Non puo del tempo edace 
Rimaner preda, eterno alto valore 

Non puo r oblio lapace 
Furar dalle memorie eccelso onore, 10 

Su r arco di niia cetra un dardo forte 
Virtii m'adatti, e ferird la morte. 
Del Ocean profondo 
Cinta dagii arapi gorgbi Ang-lia resiede 

Separata dal mondo, 15 

Perd che il suo valor I'umana eccede : 
Questa feconda sa produrre Eroi, 
Ch' hanno a ragion del sovruman tra noi. 
Alia virtii sbandita 
Danho ne i petti lor fido ricetto, 20 

Quella gli e sol g-radita, 
Perche in lei san trovar gioia, e diletto ; 
Ridillo tu, Giovanni, e mostra in tanto 
Con tua vera virtii, vero il mio Canto. 

Lungi dal Patrio lido 25 

Spinse Zeusi V industre ardente brama ; 

Ch' udio d' Helena il grido 
Con aurea tromba rimbombar la fama, 
E per poterla effigiare al paro 
Dalle piii belle Idee trasse il piu raro. 30 

Cosi I'Ape Ingegnosa 
Trae con industria il suo liquor pregiato 

Dal giglio e dalla rosa, 
E quanti vaghi fiori ornano il prato ; 

Formano un dolce suon diverse Chorde, 35 

Fan varie voci melodia Concorde. 
Di bella gloria amenta 
Milton dal Ciel natio per varie parti 



^=:^:=d\ 



DS AUTHORE TESTIMONIA. 503 

Le peregrine piante 
Volgesti a ricercar scienze, ed arti ; 40 

Del Gallo regnator vedesti i Regni, 
E deir Italia ancor gi' Eroi piu degni. 
Fabro quasi divino 
Sol vii-tii rintracciando il tuo pensiero 

Vide ill ogni coniino 45 

Chi di nobil valor calca il sentiero; 
L' ottimo dal rniglior dopo scegliea 
Per fabbricar d' ogiii virtu 1' Idea. 
Quanti nacquero in Flora 
O in lei del parlar Tosco appreser 1' arte, S'O 

La cui memorio onora 
II mondo fatta eterna in dotte carte, 
Volesti ricercar per tuo tesoro, 
E parlasti con lor nell' opre lore. 
Neir altera Babelle 55 

Per te il parlar confuse Giove in vano, 

Che per varie favelle 
Di se stessa trofeo cadde su'l piano : 

Ch' Ode oltr' all Anglia il suo piu degno Idioma 
Spagna, Francia, Toscana, e Grecia e Roma. 60 
I piu profondi arcani 
Ch' occulta la natura e in cielo e in terra 

Ch' a Ingegni sovrumani 
Troppo avaro tal' hor gli chiude, e serra, 

Chiaromente conosci, e giungi al fine 65 

Delia moral virtude al gran confine. 
Non batta il Tempo Tale, 
Fermisi immoto, e in un fermin si gl' anni, 

Che di virtu immortale 
Scorron di troppo ingiuriosi a i danni ; 70 

Che s'opre degne di Poema o storia 
Furon gia, Thai presenti alia memoria. 
Dammi tua dolce Cetra 
Se vuoi ch* io dica del tuo dolce canto, 

Ch' inalzandoti all' Etra 75 

Di farti huomo celeste ottiene il vanto. 
In Tamigi il dira che gl' e concesso 
Per te suo cigno parreggiar Permesso. 
Io che in riva del Arno 
Tento spiegar tuo merto alto, e preclaro SO 



d04 DK AUTHORE TESTIMONIA. 

So clie fatico indarno, 
E ad ammirar, non a lodarlo imparo ; 

Freno dunque la lingua, e ascolto il core 
Che ti prende a lodar con lo stupore. 

Del Sig. Antonio Francini gentilhuomo 

Fiorentino. 

JOANNI MILTONI 

LONDINENSI. 

Juveni patria, virtutibus eximio, 

ViRO qui inulta peregrination e, stwdia cuncta orbis 
terrarum loca perspexit, ut novus Ulysses omnia 
ubique ab omnibus apprehend eret : 

Pol3^glotto. in cujus oie hngivde jam deperditas sic re- 
viviscunt, ut idiomata omnia sint in ejus laudibus 
infacunda: et jure ea percallet, ut admirationes et 
plausus populorum ab propria sapientia excitatos 
intelligat : 

Illi, CUJUS animi dotes corporisque sensus ad admira- 
tionem commovent, et per ipsam motuni cuique 
auferunt ; cujus opera ad plausus hortantur, sed 
venustate vocem laudatoribus adimunt. 

Cui in memoria totus orbis ; in intellectu sapientia ; 
in voluntate ardor gloriae ; in ore eloquentia ; har- 
monicos coelestium sphasrarum sonitus astronomia 
duce audienti ; characteres mirabilium natur<e per 
quos Dei mag'nitudo describitur magistra philoso- 
phia legenti ; antiquitatum latebras, vetustatis ex- 
cidia, eruditionis ambages, comite assidua autorum 
lectione, 

Exquirentf, restaurant!, percurrenti. 
At cur nitor in arduuin ? 

Illi in cujus virtutibus evulgandis ora Famte non suf- 
ficiant, nee liommum stujjor in laudandis satis est, 
reverentiie et amoris ergo hoc ejus meritis debitum 
•\dmirationis ti'ibutum ofiert Carolus Deodatus Pa- 
tincius Florentinus, 

Tanto horafni servu?,, tantie virf'tis upvator 



ELEGIARUM LIBER. 



Elegia Prima, ad Carolum Deodaium. 

Tandem, chare, tuaj mihi pervenere tabellae, 

Pertulit et voces nuncia charta tuas ; 
Pertulit occidua Devae Cestrensis ab ora 

Verg'ivium prono qua petit amne salum. 
Multum, crede, juvat terras aluisse remotas 5 

Pectus amans iiostri, tanique fidele caput, 
Quodque milii lepidum tellus longinqua sodalem 

Debet, at unde brevi reddere jussa velit. 
Me tenet urbs reflua quam Thamesis alluit unda, 

Meque nee invitum patria dulcis habet. 10 

Jam nee arundiferum mihi cura revisere Camuiri, 

Nee dudum vetiti nie laris angit amor. 
Nuda nee ai'va placent, urabrasque negantia molles, 

Quam male Phcebicolis convenit ille locus I 
Nee duri libet usque minas perferre magistri 15 

Casteraque ingenio non subeunda meo. 
Si sit hoc exilium patrios adiisse penates, 

Et vacuum curis otia grata sequi, 
Non ego vel profugi nomen, sortemve recuso, 

Laetus et exilii condition e fruor. 20 

O utinam vates nunquam graviora tulisset 

Ille Tomitano flebilis exul agro ; 
Non tunc lonio quicquam cecisset Homero, 

Neve foret victo laus tibi prima Ma,ro, 
Tempora nam licet hie placidis dare libera Musis, 25 

Et totum rapiunt me niea vita libri. 
Excipit hine fessum sinuosi pompa theatri, 

Et vocat ad plausus garrula scena suos. 
Seu catus auditur senior, sou prodigus haerss, 

Seu pi'ocus, aut posita casside miles adest, 30 

Si^.e decennali foecundus lite patronus 

Detonat inculto barbara verba foro ; 
Z 



508 POEMATA. 

Stepe yafer gnato succurrit servus anianti, 

Et nasura rigidi fallit ubique patris ; 
Saspe novos illic virgo mirata calores 35 

Quid sit amor nescit, dum quoque nescit, amat. 
Sive cruentatum furiosa Tragoedia sceptrum 

Quassat, et effusis crinibus ora rotat, * 

Et dolet, et specto, javat et spectasse dolendo, 

Interdum et lacrymis dulcis amator inest: 40 

Seu puer infelix indelibata reliquit 

Gaudia, et abrupto flendus amore cadit : 
Seu ferus e tenebris iterat Styga criminis ultor 

Conscia funereo pectora torre movens : 
Seu moeret Pelopeia domus, seu nobilis Hi, 45 

Aut luit incestos aula Creontis avos. 
Sed neque sub tecto semper nee in urbe latemus, 

Irrita nee nobis tempera veris eunt. 
Nos quoque lucus habet vicina consitus ulmo, 

Atque suburbani nobilis umbra loci. 50 

Saepius hie blandas spirantia sidera flammas 

Virgineos videas preteriisse choros. 
Ah quoties dignae stupui miracula formge, 

Quae possit senium vel reparare Jovis ! 
Ah quoties vidi superantia lumina gemmas, 55 

Atque faces, quotquot volvit uterque polua ; 
Collaque bis vivi Pelopis quas brachia vincant, 

Quaeque fiuit puro nectare tincta via, 
Et decus eximium frontis, tremulosque capillos, 

Aurea quae fallax retia tendit Amor ; GO 

Pellacesque genas, ad quos H'yacinthina sordet 

Purpura, et ipse tui floris, Adoni, rubor! 
Cedite iaudata3 toties Heroides olim, 

Et quaecunque vagum cepit ainica Jovem. 
Cedite Achaemenise turrita fronte puellae 65 

Et quot Susa colunt, Merainoniamque Ninon. 
Vos etiam Danaae fasces submittite Nymphae, 

Et vos Iliacas, Romuleaeque nurus. 
Nee Pompeianas Tai-peia Musa coiumnas 

Jactet, et Ausoniis plena theatra stolis. 70 

Gloria Virginibus debetur prima Britannis, 

Extera sat tibi sit foemina, posse sequi. 
Tuque urbs Dardaniis, Londinum, structa colonis, 
Turrigerum late conspicienda caput, 



POEMATA. 507 

Tu nimiiim felix intra tua moenia claudis 75 

Qujcquid formcsi pendulus orbis habet. 
Non tibi tot coelo scintillant astra sereno 

Endyraionese turba ministra dese, 
Quot tibi, conspicuae formaque auioque, puellaa 

Per medias radiant turha videnda vias. 80 

Creditur hue geminis venisse invecta cohimbis 

Alma pharetrigero milite cincta Venus, 
Huic Cnidon, et riguas Simoentis flumine valles, 

Huic Paphon, et roseam posthabitura Cypron. 
Ast ego, dum pueri sinit indulgentia caeci, 85 

Moenia quam subitd linquere fausta paro ; 
Et vitare procul malefide infamia Circes 

Atria, divini Molyos usus ope. 
Stat quoque juncosas Cami remeare paludes, 

Atque itei-um raucse murmur adire Scholas. 90 

Interea fidi parvum cape munus amici, 

Paucaque in alteruos verba coacta modos. 

ELEGIA SECUNDA. 

(Anno iEtatis 17.) 
In ohitum Praconis Academici Cantahrlgiensis. 

Te, qui conspicuus baculo fulgente solebas 

Palladium toties ere ciere gregem. 
Ultima praiconum preconem te quoque saeva 

Mors rapit, officio nee favet ipsa suo, 
Candidiora licet fuerint tibi tempora plumis 5 

Sub quibus accipimus delituisse Jovem ; 
O dignus tamen Hsemonio juvenescere succo, 

Dignus in /Esonios vivere posse dies, 
Dignus quem Stygiis medica revocaret ab undis 

Arte Coronides, saepe rogantc dea. 10 

Tu si jussus eras acies accire togatas, 

Et celer a Phoebo nuncius ire tuo. 
Talis in Iliaca stabat Cyllenius aula 

Aiipes, a?therea missus ab arce Patris. 
Talis et Eurybates ante ora furentis Achillei 15 

Retulit Atridai jiissa severa ducis. 
Magna sepulchrorum regina, satelles Aremi, 

Sseva nimis Musis, Palladi saeva nimiSf 



608 POEM IT A. 

Quin illos rapias qui pondus inutile terrse, 
Turba quidein est telis ista petenda tuis. 20 

Testibus hunc igitur puliis, Academia, luge, 
Et madeant lachrymis nigra feretra tuis. 

Fundat et ipsa modos querebunda Elegeia tristes, 
Personet et totis noenia maesta scholis. 

ELEGIA TERTIA. 

(Anno ^tatis 17.) 
In obitum Prcesulis Wintoniensis. 

MdiSTUs eram, et tacitus nullo comitante sedebam, 

H^rebantque animo tristia plura meo, 
Protinus en subiit funestas cladis imago 

Fecit in Angliaco quam Libitina solo ; 
Dum procemm ingressa est splendentes marmore 

Dira sepulchrali mors raetuenda face ; [turres, 

Pulsavitque auro gravidos et jaspide muros, 

Nee metuit satrapum sternere falce greges. 
Tunc memini clarique ducis, fratrisque verendi 

Intempestivis ossa ci'emata rogis; 10 

Et memini Heroum quos vidit ad sethera raptos, 

Flerit et amissos Belgia tota duces. 
At te praecipue luxi, dignissime Praesul, 

Wintoniaeque olim gloria magna tuae ; 
Delicui fletu, et tristi sic ore querebar, 15 

Mors fera, Tartareo diva secunda Jovi, 
Nonne satis quod S5'lva tuas persentiat iras, 

Et quod in herbosos jus tibi detur agros, 
Quodque afflata tuo marcescant lilia tabo, 

Et crocus, et pulclirse Cypridi sacra rosa, 20 

Nee sinis ut semper fluvio contermina quercus 

Miretur lapsus pra^tereuntis aquae ? 
Et tibi succumbit, liquido quae plurima coelo 

Evehitur pennis, quamlibet augur avis, 
Et quae mille nigris errant animalia sylvis, 25 

Et quod alunt mutum Proteos antra pecus. 
Invida, tanti tibi cum sit concessa potestas ; 

Quid juvat humana tingere ca;de manus ? 
Nobileque in pectus certas acuisse sagittas, 

Semideamque animani sede fugasse sua? 30 



POEM ATA. 609 

Talia dum lacrymans alto sub pectore voIyo, 

Roscidus occiduis Hesperus exit aquis, 
Et Tartessiaco submerserat aequore cumim 

Phoebus, ab Eoo littore mensus iter. 
Nee mora, membra cavo posui refovenda cubili 35 

Condiderant oculos noxque soporque meos : 
Cum miihi visus eram lato spatiarier agro, 

Heu nequit ingenium visa refen'e ineum. 
Illic punicea radiabant omnia luce, 

Ut matutino cum juga sole rubent. 40 

Ac veluti cum pandit opes Thaumantia proles, 

Vestitu nituit multicolore solum. 
Non dea tarn variis ornavit floribus hortos 

Alcinoi, Zephyro Chloris amata levi. 
Flumina vernantes lambunt argentea campos 45 

Ditior Hesperio ilavet arena Tago. 
Serpit odoriferas per opes levis aura Favoni, 

Aura sub innumeris humida nata rosis. 
Talis in extremis terra? Garig;etidis oris 

Luciferi regis fingitur esse domus. 5^ 

Ipse racemifei'is dum densas vitibus umbras 

Et pellucentes miror ubique locos, 
Ecce mihi subito Praesul Wintonius astat, 

Sidereum nitido fulsit in ore jubar; 
Vestis ad auratos defluxit Candida talos, 5*" 

Insula divinum cinxerat alba caput. 
Duraque senex tali incedit venerandus amictu, 

Intremuit leeto fiorea terra sono. 
Agmina gemmatis plaudunt caelestia pennis, 

Pura triumphali personat aethra tuba. CO 

Quisque novum araplexu coraitem cantuque salutat, 

Hosque aliquis placido misit ab ore sonos ; 
* Nate veni, et patrii felix cape gaudia regni, 

Semper ab hinc duro, nate, labore vaca.' 
Dixit, et aligerae tetigerunt nablia turmse, 05 

At mihi cum tenebris aurea pulsa quies. 
Flebam turbatos Cephaleia pellice soranos, 

Talia contingant somnia saepe mihi. 



I 



610 POEMATA 



ELEGIA QUARTA. 

(Anno iEtatis 18.) 

Ad Thotnani Juniiim prrrceptorem suum, apnd mer- 
catores Anglicos Hamburgce agentes, pastoris mu- 
nere fungentem. 

CuRKE per immensum siititd, mea littera, pontum, 

I, pete Teutonicos laeve per Eequor agTos ; 
Segues runipe moras, et nil, precor, obstet eunti, 

Et festiiiantis nil remoretur iter. 
Ipse ego Sicanio i'rsenanteni carcere ventos 5 

iEolon, et virides sollicitabo Deos, 
Caeruleamque suis comitatani Dorida Nymphis, 

Ut tibi dent placid am per sua regna viam. 
At tu, si poteris, celeres tibi sume jug^ales, 

Vecta quibus Colchis fugit ab ore viri ; 10 

Aut queis Triptolemus Scythicas devenit in oras 

Gratus Eleusina missus ab urbe puer. 
Atque iibi Germanas flavere videbis arenas 

Ditis ad Hambuigas tnoenia llecte gradum, 
Dicitur ccciso quas ducere nomen ab Kama, 15 

Cimbrica quem fertur clava dedisse neci. 
Vivit ibi antiquge clarus pietatis lionore 

Prassul Cliristicolas pascere doctus oves ; 
Ille quidem est animse pkisquam pars altera nostrae, 
Dimidio vitee vivere cogor ego. "0 

Hei mihi quot pelagi, qnot monies interject! 

Me faciunt alia parte carere mei ! 
Charior ille mihi quam tu doctissime Graium 

Cliniadi, pronepos qui Telamonis erat ; 
Quamque Stagi rites generoso nuagrnus alumno, 25 

Quem peperit Lybico Chaonis ainaa Jovi. 
Qualis Amiyntorides, qualis Philyreius Heros 

Myrmidonum regi, talis et ille mihi. 
Primus eg'o Aonios illo praeunte recessus 

Lustrabam, et bifidi sacra vireta jugi, 30 

Pierosque hausi latices, Clioque favente, 

Castalio sparsi iseta ter ora mero. 
Fiammeus at sigiiuin ter viderat arietis ^thon, 
Induxitque auro lanea ter^a novo, 



POEM ATA. 511 

Bisque novo terram sparsisti, Chlori, senilem 35 

Gramme, bisque tuas abstulit Auster opes : 
Necdum ejus licuit mihi liJsmina pascere vultu, 

Aut ling-ute dulces aui^e bibisse sonos. 
Vade igitar, cursuque Eurum praiverte sonorum, 

Quara sit opus monitis res docet, ipsa vides. 40 
Invenies dulci cum conjug-e forte sedentem, 

Mulcentem gremio pignora chara suo, 
Forsitan aut veterum pra^larga volumiua patrum 

Versantem, aut veri biblia sacra Dei, 
Cajlestive animas saturantem rore teuellas, 45 

Grande salutifera? religionis opus. 
Utque solet, multam sit dicere cura salutem, 

Dicere quam decuit, si modo adesset, herum. 
Haec quoque, paulum oculos in humum defixa mo- 

Vei'i>a verecundo sis memor ore Joqui : [destos 

Hajc tibi, si teneris vacat inter pra?li Musis, 51 

Mittit ab Angiiaco littore iida manus, 
Accipe sinceram, quam vis sit sera, salutem ; 

Fiat et hoc ipso g-ratior ilia tibi. 
Sera quidem, sed vera fuit, quam casta recepit 55 

Icaris a lento Penelopeia viro. 
Ast ego quid volui manit'estuni tollere crimen, 

Ipse (iuod ex omni parte levare nequit ? 
Arguitur tardus merito, noxamque fatetur, 

Et pudet officium deseruisse suum. 60 

Tu mod6 da veniam fasso, veniamque rogauti, 

Crimina diminui, quae patuere, solent. 
IS on ferus in pavidos rictus diducit i'liantes 

Vulnifico pronos nee rapit nngue leo. 
Sajpe sarissiferi crudelia pectora Thracis 65 

Supplicis ad moestas delicuere preces. 
Extensaeque manus avertunt fulminis ictus, 

Placat et iratos liostia parva Deos. 
Jamque diu scripsisse tibi fuit impetus illi. 

Neve moras ultra ducere passus Amor ; 70 

Nam vaga Fama refert, hen nuntia vera malorum f 

In tibi finitimis bella turn ere locis, 
Teque tuamque urbem truculento milite cingi, 

Et jam Saxonicos arma parasse duces, 
Te circum late campos populatur Enyo, 75 

Et sata carne virum jam cruor arva rigat ; 

S L 



512 POEMATA. 

Germanisque suum concessit Thracia Martem, 

lUuc Odrysios Mars pater egit equos ; 
Perpetudque comans jam defiorescit oliva, 

Fugit et jerisonam Diva perosa tubam, 80 

Fugit io terris, et jam iion ultima virgo 

Creditur ad superas justa volasse doraos. 
Te tamen interea belli circumsonat horror, 

Vivis et ignoto solus inopsque solo ; 
Et, tibi quam patrii non exhibuere penates, 85 

Sede peregrina quaeris egenus opem. 
Patria dura parens, et saxis saevior albis 

Spumea quae pulsat littoris unda tui, 
Siccine te decet innocuos exponere foetus, 

Siccine in externam ferrea cogis humum, 90 

Et sinis ut terris quadrant alimenta remotis 

Quos tibi prospiciens miserat ipse Deus, 
Et qui laeta ferunt de coelo nuntia, quique 

Qua; via post cineres ducat ad astra, docent ? 
Digna quidem Stygiis quae vivas clausa tenebris 95 

jEternaque animse digna perire fame ! 
Haud aliter vates terrae Thesbitidis olim 

Pressit inassueto devia tesqua pede, 
Desertasque Arabum salebras, dum regis Achabi 

EfFugit atque tuas, Sidoni dira, manus. 100 

Talis et horrisono laceratus membra flagello, 

Paulus ab y^mathia pellitur urhe Cilix. 
Piscosaeque ipsum Gergessae civis lesum 

Finibus ingratus jussit abire suis. 
At tu sume animos, nee spes cadat anxia curis, 105 

Nee tua concutiat decolor ossa metus. 
Sis etenim quamvis fulgentibus obsitus armis, 

Intententque tibi millia tela necem, 
At nullis vel inerme latus violabitur armis. 

Deque tuo cuspis nulla cruore bibet. 110 

Namque eris ipse Dei radiante sub aegide tutus, 

lUe tibi custos, et pugil ille tibi ; 
Ille Sionaeae qui tot sub moenibus arcis 

Assyrios fudit nocte silente viros ; 
Inque fugam vertit quos in Samaritidas eras 115 

Misit ab antiquis prisca Damascus agris, 
Terruit en densas pavido cum rege cohortes, 

Acre dum vacuo buccina clara sonat. 



POEMATa. 513 

Cornea pulvereum dum yerberat ungula campuui, 

Currus arenosam dum quatit actus hunium, 120 
Auditurque hinnitus equorum ad bella ruentum, 

Et strepitus ferri, murmuraque alta virum. 
Et tu (quod superest miseris) sperare memento, 

Et tua mag-nanimo pectore vince mala ; 
Nee dubites quandoque frui melioribus annis, 125 

Atque iterum patrios posse videre lares. 



E LEG I A Q UINTA. 

(Anno iEtatis 20.) 
In adicntum veris. 

In se perpetuo Tempus revc..nbile gyro 

Jam revocat Zephyros vere tepente nOTOS j 
Induiturqiie brevem Tellus reparata juventam, 

Jamque soluto gelu dulce virescit humus. 
Fallor ? an et nobis redeunt in carmina yii'es, 5 

Ingeniumque mihi munere veris adest 1 
Munere veris adest, iterumqae vigescit ab illo 

(Quis putet) atque aliquod jam sibi poscit opus. 
Castalis ante oculos, bifidumque cacumen oberrat, 

Et mihi Pyrenen somnia nocte ferunt; IC 

Concitaque arcano fervent mihi pectora motu, 

Et furo, et sonitus me sacer intus agit. 
Delius ipse venit, video Peneide lauro 

Implicitos crines, Delius ipse venit. 
Jam mihi mens liquidi raptatur in ardua coeli, 15 

Perque vagas nubes corpore liber eo ; 
Perque umbras, perque antra feror penetralia vatum 

Et mihi fana patent interiora Deum ; 
Intuiturque animus to to quid agatur Olympo, 

Nee fugiunt oculos Tartax'a csca meos. 20 

Quid tarn grande sonat distento spiritua ore? 

Quid parit hasc rabies, quid sacer iste furor? 
Ver r[\ihi, quod dedit ingenium, cantabitur illo; 

Profueriut isto reddita dona modo. 
Jam Philomela tuos foliis adoperta novellis, 25 

Instituis modules, dum silet omne nemus : 
Urbe ego, tu sylva, simul incipiamus utrique, 

Et simul adventum veris uterque canat. 
Z2 



614 POEMATA. 

Veris io rediere vices, celebremus honores 

Veris, et hoc subeat Musa perennis opus. 30 

Jam sol ^thiopas fugiens Tithoniaque ai'va, 

Flectit ad Arctoas aurea lora plagas. 
Est breve noctis iter, brevis est mora noctis opacae, 

Horrida cum tenebi'is exulat ilia suis. 
Jamque Lycaonius plaustrum coeleste Bootes 35 

Non longa sequitur fessus ut ante via ; 
Nunc etiam solitas circum Jovis atria toto 

Excubias agitant sidera i-ara polo ; 
Nam dolus, et caedes, et vis cum nocte recessit. 

Neve Gig-anteum Dii timuere scelus. 40 

Forte aliquis scopuli reeubans in vertice pastor, 

Roscida cum primo sole rubescit humus, 
Haec, ait, hac certe caruisti nocte puella, 

Phoebe, tua, celeres quae retineret equos. 
Lseta suas repetit sylvas, phareti*amque resumit 45 

Cynthia, Luciferas ut videt alta rotas; 
Et tenues ponens radios gaudere videtur 

Officium fieri tam breve fratris ope. 
Desere, Phoebus ait, thalamos Aurora seniles. 

Quid juvat efFoeto procubuisse toro '? 50 

Te manet iEolides viridi venator in herba, 

Surge, tuos ignes altus Hymettus habet. 
Flava verecundo dea crimen in ore fatetur, 

Et matutinos ocius urget equos. 
Exuit invisum Tellus rediviva senectam, 55 

Et cupit amplexus, Phoebe, subire tuos ; 
Et cupit, et digna est, quid enim formosius ilia, 

Pandit ut omniferos luxuriosa sinus, 
Atque Arabum spirat messes, et ab ore venusto 

Mitia cum Paphiis fundit amoma rosis ! 60 

Ecce coronatur sacro frons ardua luco, 

Cingit ut Idaeam pinea turris Oj)im ; 
Et vario madidos intexit flore capillos, 

Floribus et visa est posse placere suis. 
Floribus effusos ut erat redimita capillos 65 

Tenario placuit diva Sicana Deo. 
Aspice, Phoebe, tibi faciles hortantur amores, 

Mellitasque movent flam in a verna preces. 
Cinnamea Zephyrus leve plaudit odorifer ala, 

Blanditiasque tibi ferre videntur aves. 70 



POEMATA. 515 

Nee sine dote tuos temeraria qixserit amores 

Terra, iiec optatos poscit egena toros ; 
Alma salutiferum medicos tibi gramen in usus 

Prsebet, et hinc titulos adjuvat ipsa tuos. 
Qu6d si te pretium, si te fulgentia tangunt 75 

Munera, (muneribus saepe coemptus Amor) 
Ilia tibi ostentat quascunque sub squoi'e vasto, 

Et super injectis raiontibus abdit opes. 
Ah quoties cum tu clivoso fessus Olympo 

In verspertinas prsecipitaris aquas, 80 

Cur te, inquit, cursu languentem, Phoebe, diurno 

Hesperiis recipit Cserula mater aquis ? 
Quid tibi cum Tetby? Quid cum Tartesside lympha, 

Dia quid imundo perluis ora salo "? 
Frigora, Phoebe, mea melius captabis in umbra, 85 

Hue ades, ardentes imbue rore comas. 
Mollior egelida veniet tibi somnus in herba, 

Hue ades, et gremio lumina pone meo. 
Quaque jaces circum mulcebit leue susurrans 

Aura, per humentes co -pora fusa rosas. 90 

Nee me (crede mihi) terrent Semeleia fata. 

Nee Phaetonteo fumidus axis equo ; 
Cum tu, Phoebe, tuo sapientius uteris ig-ni. 

Hue ades, et g-remio lumina pone meo. 
Sic Tellus lasciva suos suspirat amores ; 95 

Matris in exemplum ceetera turba ruunt. 
Nunc etenim toto currit vagus orbe Cupido, 

Languentesque tbvet solis ab igne faces. 
Insonuere novis lethalia cornua nervis, 

Triste micant feri'o tela corusca novo> 100 

Jamque vel invictam tentat superasse Dianam, 

Quaeque sedet sacro Vesta pudica foco. 
Ipsa senescentem reparat Venus annua formam, 

Atque itemm tepido creditur orta mari. 
Marmoreas juvenes clamant Hymenaee per urbes, 

Littus, io Hymen, et cava saxa sonant. 106 

Cultior ille venit tunicaque decentior apta, 

Puniceum redolet vestis odora crocum. 
Eg-rediturque frequens ad amoeni gaudia veris 

Virgineos auro cincta puella sinus : 110 

Votum est cuique suum, votum est tamen omnibus 

Ut sibi quem cupiat, det Cytherea virum. [unum, 
Nunc quoque septena modulatur arundine pastor 



516 POEMATA. 

Et sua quae jung-at carmina Phyllis liabet. 
Navita nocturno placat sua sidera cantu, 113 

Delphinasque leves ad vada summa vocat. 
Jupiter ipse alto cum conjug-e ludit Olympo, 

Convocat et famulos ad sua festa Deos. 
Nunc etiam Satyri cum sera crepuscula surgunt, 

Pervolitant celeri florea rura choro, 120 

Sylvanusqiie sua cyparissi froiide revinctus, 

Semicaperque Deus, semideusque caper. 
Quaeque sub arboribus Dryades latuere vetustis, 

Per juga, per solos expatiantur agros. 
Per sata luxuriant fruticetaque Maenalius Pan, 125 

Vix Cybele mater, vix sibi tuta Ceres ; 
Atque aliquam cupidus praedatur Oreada Faunus, 

Consulit in trepidos dum sibi nympha pedes, 
Jamque latet, latitansque cupit male tecta videri, 

Et fugit, et fugiens pervelit ipsa capi. 130 

Dii quoque non dubitant coelo prasponere sylvas, 

Et sua quisque sibi numina lucus habet. 
Et sua quisque diu sibi numina lucus habeto. 

Nee vos arborea dii precorite domo. 
Te referant miseris te, Jupiter, aurea terris 135 

Saecla, quid ad nimbos aspera tela redis? 
Tu saltern lente rapidos ag-e, Phoebe, jugales 

Qua potes, et sensim tempora veris eant ; 
Brumaque productas tarde ferat hispid a noctes, 

Ingruat et nostro serior umbra polo. 140 

ELEGIA SEXTA. 

Ad Carolum Deodatum I'uri commorantem. 

Qui cum Idibus Decemh. scripsisset, et sua carmina 
excusari postulasset si solito minus essent bona, 
quod inter lautitias quibus eru.t ab amicis exceptuSy 
haud satis felicem operam Musis dare se posse affir- 
mabat, hoc kabuit responsum. 

MiTTO tibi sanam non pleno ventre salutem, 

Qua tu distento forte carere potes. 
At taa quid nostram prolectat Musa camoenam, 

]Sec sinit optatas posse sequi tenebras? 
Carmine scire velis quam te redamemque colamque, 

Crede mihi vix hoc carmine scire queas. C 



POEMATA. 517 

Nam neque nostei' amor modulis includitur arctis. 

Nee venit ad claudos integer ipse pedes. 
Quam 'bene solennes epulas, hiiaremque Decembrira. 

Festaque coelifugam quai coluere Deum, 10 

Deliciasque refers, hyberni guadia ruris, 

Haustaque per lepidos Gallica musta focos ! 
Quid quereris refugam vino dapibusque poesin ? 

Carmen amat Bacchum, carmina Bacchus amat. 
Nee puduit Phoebum virides gestasse corymbos, 15 

Atque hederam laiiro praeposuisse suae. 
Saepius Aoniis calamavit collibus Euae 

Mista Thyoneo turba novena choro. 
Naso Corallaeis mala earmina misit ab agi'is : 

Non illic epulae, non sata vitis erat. 20 

Quid nisi vina, rosasque racemiferumque Lyaeum, 

Cantavit brevibus Tela Musa modis ? 
Pindarieosque inflat numeros Teumesius Euan, 

Et redolet sumptum pagina quasque nierum ; 
Dum gravis evei'so currus erepat axe supinus, 25 

Et volat Eleo pulvere fuscus eques. 
Quadriraoque madens Lyricen Romanus laccho 

Dulce canit Glyceran, flavicomamque Chloen. 
Jam quoque lauta tibi generoso mensa paratu 

Mentis alit vires, ingeniumque fovet. 30 

Massica foesundam despumant pocula venam, 

Fundis et ex ipso condita metra cado. 
Addimus his artes, fusumque per intima Phoebum 

Corda, favent uni Bacchus, Apollo, Ceres. 
Scilicet haud mirum tarn dulcia carmina per te 35 

Numine composito, tres perperisse Deos. 
Nunc quoque Thressa tibi caelato barbitos auro 

Insonat arguta molliter icta manu ; 
Auditurque chelys suspensa tapetia circum, 

Virgineos tremula quae regat arte pedes. 40 

Ilia tuas saltern teneant spectacula Musas, 

Et revocent, quantum carpula pellit iners. 
Crede mihi dum psallit ebur, comitataque plectrum 

Implet odoratos festa chorea tholos, 
Percipies tacitum per pectora serpere Phoebum, 45 

Quale repentinus permeat ossa calor, 
Perque puellares oculos digitumque sonantera 

Irruet in totos lapsa Thalia sinus. 



518 POEMATA. 

Naroque Elegia levis multorum cura Deorum est, 

Et vocat ad nuraeros quemlibet ilia suos ; 50 

Liber adest elegis, Eratoque, Ceresque, Venusque 

Et cum purpurea niatre tenellus Amor. 
Talibus inde licent coiivivia larga poetis, 

Saepius et veteri commaduisse mero. 
At qui beila refert, et adulto s\ib Jove cojlum, 55 

Heroasque pios, semideosque duces, 
Et nunc sancta canit superum consulta deorum, 

Nu.nc latrata fero regiia profunda cane, 
Ille quidem parce Samii pro more raagistrl 

Vivat, et innocuos prasbeat lierba cibos ; 60 

Stet prope fag-ineo pellucida lympha catillo, 

Sobriaque e puro pocula fonte bibat. 
Additur huic scelerisque vacans, et casta juventus, 

Et rigidi mores, et sine labe manus. 
Qualis veste nitens sacra, et lustralibus undis 65 

Surgis ad infensos augur iture Deos. 
Hoc ritu vixisse ferunt post rapta sagacem 

Lumina Tiresian, Ogyg-iumque Linon, 
Et lare devoto profugum Calchanta, senemque 

Oi'pheon, edomitis sola per antra feris ; 70 

Sic dapis exiguus, sic rivi potor Homerus 

Dulichium vexit per freta longa \irum, 
Et per monstrificam Persies Pboebados aulam, 

Et vada foemineis insidiosa sonis, 
Perque tuas, rex ime, domos, ubi sanguine nigro 75 

Dicitur umbrarum detinuisse greges. 
Diis etenim sacer est vates, divumque sacei'dos, 

Spirat et occultum pectus, et ora Jovem. 
At tu siquid agam scitabere (si modo saltern 

Esse putas tanti noscere siquid agam) 80 

Paciferum canimus coelesti semine regeiii, 

Faustaque sacratis seecula pacta libris, 
Vagitumque Dei, et stabulentem paupere tecto 

Qui suprema suo cum patre regna colit, 
Stelliparumque polum,modulantesque sethere turmas, 

Et subito elisos ad sua fan a Deos. 86 

Dona quidem dedimus Cliristi natalibus ilia. 

Ilia sub auroram lux mihi prima tulit. 
Te quoque pressa manent patriis meditata cicutis, 

Tu mihi, cui recitem, judicis instar eris. 90 



POEYiATA. fAO 

ELEGIA SEPTIMA. 

(Anno vEtatis 19.) 

NoNDUM blanda tuas leges, Amathusia, ndram, 

Et Paphio vacuum pectus ab igne fuit. 
Sajpe cupidineas, puerilia tela, sag-ittas, 

Atque tuum sprevi maxime nuraen Amor. 
Tu puer imbelles, dixi, traiisfige columbas, 5 

Conveniunt tenero mollia bella duel. 
Aixt de passeribus tumidos age, parve, triumphos, 

Haec sunt militiae digna trophsea tuae. 
In genus humanum quid inania dirigis arma ? 

Non valet in fortes ista pharetra viros. 10 

Non tulit hoc Cyprius, (neque enim Deus ullus ad iras 

Promptior) et duplici jam ferus igne calet. 
Ver erat, et summas radians per culraina villas 

Attulerat primam lux tibi, Male, diem : 
At mihi adhuc refugam quaerebant lumina noctem, 

Nee matutinum sustinuere jubar. 16 

Astat Amor lecto, pictis Amor impiger alis, 
Prodi dit astantem moto pharetra Deum ; 
Prodidit et facies, et dulce minantis ocelli, 

Et quicquid puero dignum et Amore fuit. 20 

Talis in eterno juvenis Sigeius Olympo 

Miscet amatori pocula plena Jovi ; 
Aut qui formosas pellexit ad oscula nymphas 

Thiodamantaeus Naiade raptus Hylas. 
Addideratque iras, sed et has decuisse putares, 25 

Addideratque truces, nee sine felle, minas. 
Et miser exemplo sapuisses tutiiis, inquit. 

Nunc mea quid possit dextera testis eris. 
Inter et expertos vires numerabere nostras, 

Et faciam vero per tua damn a fidem. 30 

Ipse ego, si nescis, strato Pythone siiperbum 

Edomui Phoebum, cessit et illi mihi ; 
Et quoties meminit Peneidos, ipse fatetur 

Certius et graviiis tela nocere mea. 
Me nequid adductum curvare peritiiis areum, 35 

Qui post terga solet vincere Parthus eques : 
Cydoniusque mihi ceclit venator, et ille 
Inscius uxori qui necis author erat. 



620 POEMATA. 

Est etiarn nobis ing-ens quoque victus Orion, 

Herculeseque manus, Herculeusque comes. 40 

Jupiter ipse licet sua fulmina torqaeat in me, 

Hgerebunt lateri spicula nostra Jovis. 
Ceetera qua? dubitas melius mea tela docebunt ? 

Et tua non leviter corda patenda mibi. 
Nee te, stulte, tuae poterunt defendere Musae 45 

Nee tibi Phoebaeus porriget anguis opera. 
Dixit, et aiirato quatiens mucrone sagittam, 

Evolat in tepidos Cypridos ille sinus. 
At mihi risuro tonuit ferus ore niinaci, 

Et mihi de puero non metus ullus erat. 50 

Et mod6 qua nostri spatiantur in urbe Quirites, 

Et modd villarum proxima rura placent. 
Turba frequens, facieque simillima turba dearum 

Splendida per medias itque reditque vias. 
Auctaque luce dies gemirio fulg'ore coruscat, 55 

Pallor ? an et radios bine quoque Pboebus habet '{ 
Haec eg"0 non fugi spectacula grata severus. 

Impetus et quo me fert juvenilis, agor. 
Luniina luminibus male pi'ovidus obvia misi, 

Neve oculos potuit continuisse meos. 60 

Unam forte aliis supereminuisse notabam, 

Principium nostri lux erat ilia mali. 
Sic Venus optaret mortalibus ipsa videri, 

Sic reg-ina Deum conspicienda fuit. 
Hanc memor objecit nobis malus ille Cupido, 65 

Solus et hos nobis texuit ante dolos. 
Nee procul ipse vafer latuit, multa^que sagittae, 

Et facis a tergo grande pependit onus. 
Nee mora, nunc ciliis hassit, nunc virginis ori, 

Insilit hinc labiis, insidet inde genis : 70 

Et quascunque agilis partes jaculator oberrat, 

Hei mihi, mille locis pectus inerme ferit. 
Protinus insoliti subierunt corda furores, 

Uror amans iiitus flammaque totus eram. 
Interea misero quae jam mihi sola placebat, 75 

Ablata est oculis non reditura meis. 
Ast ego progredior tacit^ querebundus, et excors, 

Et dubius volui saepe referre pedem. 
Finder et haec remanent : sequitur pars altera votum, 

Raptaque tam subitd gaudia flere juvat. bO 



POEM ATA. 521 

Sic dolet amissum proles Junonia caslum, 

Inter Lemniacos prajcipitata focos. 
Talis et abreptum solem respexit, ad Orcum 

Vectus ab attonitis Amphiaraus equis. 
Quid faciatn infelix, et luctu victus? amores 85 

Nee licet inceptos ponere, neve sequi. 
O utinam spectare seniel milsi detur araatos 

Vultus, et coram tristia ^erba loqui ; 
Forsitan et dure non est adamaute creata, 

Forte nee ad nostras surdeat lUa preces. 90 

Crede mihi, niillus sic infeliciter arsit, 

Ponar in exemplo primus et unus ego. 
Parce precor, teneri cum sis Deus ales amoris, 

Pugnent olRcio nee tua facta tuo. 
Jam tuus certe est mihi formidabilis arcus 95 

Nate dea, jaculis nee minus igne potens ; 
Et tua fumabunt nostris altaria donis, 

Solus et in superis tu mihi summis eris. 
Deme ineos tandem, verum nee deme, furores, 

Nescio cur, miser est suaviter omnis amans: 100 
Tu modo da facilis, posthajc mea siqua futura est 

Cuspis amaturos figat ut una duos. 

H^c eg-o, mente olim Iseva, studioque supino, 

Nequitiae posui vana trophsea meae. 
Scilicet abreptum sic me malus impulit error, 105 

Indoeilisquae etas prava magistra fuit. 
Donee Socraticas iimbrosa Academia rivos 

Prfebuit, admissum dedocuitque jugum. 
Protinus extinctis ex illo tempore flammis, 

Cincta rigent multo pectora nostra gelu. 110 

Unde suis frigus metuit puer ipse sagittis, 

Et Diomedeam vim timet ipsa Venus. 



522 

EPIGRAM MA TUM LIBER. 

I. — In prodltionem bombardicam. 

Cum simul in regem nuper satrapasque Britannof. 

Ausus es infandum, perfide Fauxe, nefas, 
Fallor? an et mitis volaisti ex iJarte videvi, 

Et pensare mala cum pietat.e soelus ? 
Scilicet hos alti missurus ad atria coeli, 5 

Sulphureo curru flammivolisque rotis. 
Qualiter ilie feris caput inviolabile Parcis 

Liquit lordanios turbine raptus a^os. 

II. — In eandem. 

SicciNE tentasti ccelo donasse liicobum 

Quae septemg-emino Bellua monte lates? 
Ni roeliora tuum poterit dare munera numen 

Parce, precor, donis insidiosa tuis. 
Ille quidem sine te consortia serus adivit 5 

Astra, nee inferni pulveris usus ope^ 
Sic potius foedus in coeium pelle cucullos, 

Et quot habet brutos Roma protana Deos, 
Namque hac aut alia nisi quemque adjuveris arte, 

Crede mihi, coeli vix bene scandet iter. 10 

III. — In eandem, 

PuRGATOREM animas derisit lacobus ignem, 

Et sine quo superum non adeunda domus. 
Frenduit hoc trina monstrum Latiale corona;" 

Movit et horrificum cornua dena minax. 
Et nee insultus ait temnes mea sacra, Britanne, 6 

Supplicium spreta religion e dabis. 
Et si stelligeras unquam penetraveris arces, 

Non nisi per flammas triste patebit iter. 
O quam funesto cecinisti proxima vero, 

Verbaque ponderibus vix caritura suis ! 10 

Nam prope Tartareo sublime rotatus ab igni 

Ibat ad lethereas, umbra perusta, plazas. 




r 

" .^ POEMATA. " ^ 

lY. -^In eandem. 

QuEM modd Roma suis devorerat impia diris, 

Et Styge damnarat Taenarioque sinu, 
Hunc, vice mutata, jam toilere gestit ad astra, 

Et cupit ad superos evehere usque Deos. 

V. — In inventorein bombardcB, 

IaPEtionidem laudavit ca?ca vetustas, 

Qui tulit pethereani solis ab axe facem ; 
At mihi niajoi- ei'it, qui lurida creditur arma, 

Et trifidum fulmen surripuisse Jovi. 

VI. — Ad Leonoram RomcE canentem, 

Angelus unicuique suus (sic credite g-entes) 

Obti?:it aethereis ales ab ordiaibus. 
Quid mirum ? Leonora, tibi si gloria major? 

Nam tua pr^senteni vox sonat ipsa Deura. 
Aut Deus, aut vacui certe mens tertia coeli 5 

Per tiia secreto guttura serpit ag-ens ; 
SeiTpit agens, facilisque docet mortalia corda 

Sensim immortali assuescere posse sono. 
Quod si cuncta quidem Deus est, per cunctaque fusus, 

In te una loquitur, caetera mutus habet. 10 

YII. — Ad eandem. 

Altera Torquatum cepit Leonora poetam, 

Cujus ab insano cessit amore furens. 
Ah rniaer ille tuo qua^ito felicius aevo 

Perditus, et propter te, Leonora, foret I 
Et te Pieria sensisset voce canentem 5 

Aurea maternae fila movere lyrge : 
Quamvis Dircaeo torsisset lumina Pentheo 

Saevior, aut totus desipuisset iners, 
Tu tamen errantes caeca vertigine sensus 

Voce eadem poteras oomposuisse tua ; 10 

Et poteras, aeg-ro spirans sub corde, quietem 

Flexanimo cantu restituisse sibi. 



524 POEMATA. 

VIII. — Ad ea7idem. 

Creuula quid liqiiidam Sirena Neapoli jacfas, 

Claraque Parthenopes fana Acheloiados, 
Littoreamque tua defimctam Ts'aiada npa 

Corpora Chalcidico sacra dedisse rogo ? 
lUa quidem vivitque, et araoena Tibridis unda 5 

Mutavit rauci murmura Pausilipi. 
Illic Romulidum studiis ornata seciindis, 

Atque homines cantu detinet atoue Deos. 

IX. — Apologus de Rustico et Hero. 

RusTicus ex malo sapidissima poma quotaimis 

Legit, et urbano lecta dedit Domino ; 
Hinc incredibili fructus dulcedine captus 

Malum ipsam in proprias transtulit areolas. 
Hactenus ilia ferax, sed longo debilis asvo, 5 

Mota Silo assueto, protenus aret iners. 
Quod tandem ut patuit Domino, spe lusus inani, 

Damnavit celeres in sua damna manus ; 
Atque ait, lieu quanto satius fuit ilia Coloni 

(Parva licet) grato dona tulisse animo 1 10 

Possem ego avaritiam fraenare, g-ulamque voracem : 

Nunc periere mihi et foetus et ipse parens. 

X. — Ad Christinam Suecormn Reginam, 
nomine Cromvjelli. 

Bellipotens Virgo, septem Regina Trionum, 

Christina, Arctoi lucida Stella poli ! 
Cernis, quas merui dura sub casside rugas, 

Utque senex armis impiger ora tero ; 
Invia fatorum dum per vestigia nitor, ^ 

Exequor et populi fortia jussa manu. 
Ast tibi submittit frontem reverentior umbra 

Nee sunt hi vultus Regibus usque truces. 



525 




SYLVARUM LIBER 




Inobitum Procancellarii, medicu 




(Anno .Etatis 17.) 




Parere fati discite legibus, 




Man usque Parcae jam date supplices 




Qui pendulum telluris orbera 




lape^e collitis nepotes. 




Vos si relicto mors vaga Taenaro 


5 


Semel vocarit flebilis, heu raorae 




Tentantur incassum, dolique ; 




Per tenebras Stygis ire certum est. 




Si destinatam pellere dextera 




Mortem valeret, non ferus Hercules, 


10 


Nessi veneiiatus cruore. 




y^^mathia jacui'sset Oeta. 




Nee fraude turpi Palladis invidse 




Vidisset occisum Ilion Hectora, aut 




Quern larva Pelidis peremit 


lb 


Ense Locro, Jove lacrymante. 




Sic triste fatum verba Hecateia 




Fugare possint, Tellegoni parens 




Vixisset infamis, potentique 




^giali soror usa virga. 


20 


Numenque trinum fallere si queant 




^Artes medentum, ignotaque gramina. 




Non gnarus herbarum Machaon 




Eurypyli cecidisset basta. 




Ljpsisset nee te, Philyreie, 


25 


Sagitta Echidnse perlita sanguine, 




Nee tela te fulmenque avitum 




Csese puer genetricis alvo. 




Tuque alumno major Apolline, 




Gentis togatae cui regimen datum, 


HQ 


Frondosa quem nunc Cirrlia luget. 




Et mediis Helicon in undis, 





52G POEMATA 

Jam prsefuisses Palladio gregi 
Latus, supevstes, nee sine gloria : 

Nee pappe lustrasses Charontis 35 

Horribiles baratbri recessua. 
At fila rupit Persepbone tua 
Irata, cum te viderit, artibus 
Succoque pollenti, tot atris 

Faucibus eripuisse mortis. 48 

Colende Pi*aeses, membra precor tua 
Molli quiescant cespite, ct ex tuo 
Crescant rosae, caltbasque busto, 
Puipureoque Hyacinthus ore. 
Sit mite de te jxidicium ^Eaci, 45 

Subrideatque ^Etuaea Pi'oserpina, 
Interque felices perennis 
Eiysio spatiere campo. 



In Quintum Novembrls. 
(Anno ^tatis 17.) 
Jam pius extrema veniens lacobus ab arcto, 
Teucrigenas populos, lateque paten tia regna 
Albiouum tenuit, jamque inviolabile foedus 
Sceptia Caledoniis conjunxerat Anglica Scotis : 
Pacificusque novo felix divesqiie, sedebat 9 

in solio, occultique doli securus et hostis : 
Cum ferus ignifiuo regnans Acheronte tyrannus, 
Eumenidum pater, aethereo vagus exul Olympo, 
Forte per immensum terrarum erraverat orbem, 
Dinumerans sceleris socios, vernasque fi deles, 10 
Participes regni post funera moesta futniros ; 
Hie tempestates medio ciet aere diras. 
Iliac unanimes odium struit inter amicos, 
Armat et invictas in mutua viscera gentes ; 
Regnaque olivifera vertit florentia pace, 15 

Et quoscunque videt puras virtutis amantes, 
Hos cupit adjicere imperio, fraudumque magister 
Tentat inaccessum sceleri corrumpere pectus ; 
Insidiasque locat tacitas, cassesque latentes 
Tendit, ut incautos rapiat, seu Caspia Tigris 20 

Insequitur trepidam deserta per avia praedain 
Nocte sub illuni, et somno nictantibus astris. 



POEMATA. G27 

Talibus infestat populos Sumraanus et urbea 
Cinctus caerulea; fumanti turbine flammge. 
Janique fluentisonis albentia rupibus arva 23 

Apparent, et terra Deo dilecta niarino, 
Cui nomen dederat quondam Neptunia proles, 
Amphitryon! aden qui non dubitavit atrocem, 
iEquore tranato, furiali poscere bello. 
Ante expugnatae crudelia ssecula Trojse. 30 

At simul banc opibusque et festa pace beatam 
Aspicit, et pingues donis Cerealibus agros, 
Quodque magis doluit, venerantem nurnina veri 
Sancta Dei populum, tandem suspiria rupit 
Tartareos ig-nes et lurid um olentia sulphur ; 33 

Qualia Trinacria truxa ab JoA^e clausus in ^tna 
Efflat tabifico monstrosus ab ore Tiphoeus. 
Ignescunt oculi, stride tque adamantinus ordo 
Dentis, ut armoram fragor, ictaque cuspide cus^ is 
Atque pererrato solum hoc lacrymabile mundo 40 
' Inveni, dixit, gens base mihi sola rebellis, 
Contemtrixque jugi, nostraque potentior arte. 
Ilia tamen, mea si quicquam tentamina possunt, 
Non feret hoc irapune diu, non ibit inulta. 
Hactenus ; et piceis liquido natat aere pennis ; 43 
Qua volat, adversi praecursant agmine Yenti, 
Densantur nubes, et crebra tonitrua fulgent. 

Jamque pruinosas velox superaverat Alpes, 
Et tenet Ausoniae fines : a parte sinistra 
Nimbifer Appenninus erat, priscique Sabini, 50 

Dextra venificiis infamis Hetruria, nee non 
Te furtiva, Tibris, Thetidi videt oscula dantem ; 
Hinc Mavortigenae consistit in arce Quirini. 
Reddiderant dubiam jam sera crepuscula lucem, 
Cum circumg-reditur totam Tricoronifer urbem, 55 
Panificosque Deos portat, scapulisqne virorum 
Evehitur, praeeunt submisso poplite reges, 
Et mendicantum series longissima fratrura ; 
Cereaque in manibus gestant funalia cseci, 
Cirameriis nati in tenebris, vitamque trahentes. 60 
Templa dein multis subeunt lucentia taedis 
(Vesper erat sacer iste Petro) fremitusque canentiim 
S pe tholos implet vacuos, et inane locorum. 
Qualiter exululat Bromius, Bromiique caterva. 



528 POEMaTA, 

Orgia cantantes in Echionio Aracyntho, 05 

Dum tremit attonitus vitreis Asopus in undis, 
Et pvocul ipse cava responsat rupe Cithaeron. 

His igitur tandem soleiini more peractis, 
Nox senis amplexus Erebi taciturna reliquit, 
Prsecipitesque impellit equos stimulante iiagello, 70 
Captum oculis Typhlonta, Melanclisetemque ferocem 
Atque AcherontEeo prognatam patre Siopen 
Torpidam, et hirsutis horrentem i'hrica capillis. 
Interea regum domitor, Phleg'etontius hseres 
Ingreditur thalamos (neque enim secretus ad\Jter 75 
Product steriles moUi sine pellice noctes) 
At vix composites somnus claudebat oceilos, 
Cum nig'er umbrarum doniinus, rect'orque silentum, 
Praedatorque liominura falsa sub imag-iae tectus 
Astitit ; assumptis micuerunt tempora canis, 80 

Bai'ba sinus promissa tegit, ciueracea longo 
Syrmate verrit humuni vestis, peudetque ciicuilus 
Vertice de raso, et ne quicquam desit ad artes^ 
Cannabeo lumbos constrixit fiine salaces. 
Tarda fenestratis fig'ens vestig-ia calceis. 85 

Talis, uti fama est, vasta Fransciscus eremo 
Tetra vag'abatur solus per lustra ferarum, 
Sylvestrique tulit g'enti pia verba salutis 
Impius, atque lupos domuit, Lybicosque leones. 

Subdolus at tali Serpens velatus aniictu 90 

Solvit in has tallax ora execratia voces; 
Dormis nate ? Etiamne tuos sopor opprimit artus 1 
Immemor, O lidei, pecorumque oblite tuorum ! 
Dum catliedram,venerande,tuain,diademaque triplex 
Ridet Hyperboreo gens barbara nata sub axe, C5 
Dumque pharetrati spernunt tua jura Bi-itanni : 
Surg'e, age, surge piger, Latinus quera Caesar adorat, 
Cui reserata patet convex! janua cc«li, 
Turgentes animos, et fastus frange procaces, 
Racrilegique sciant, tua quid maledictio possit. KV 
Et quid Apostolicte possit custodia clavis ; 
Et memor Hesperite disjectam ulciscere classeni, 
Mersaque Iberorum lato vexilla profundo, 
Sanctorumque cruci tot corpora fixa probosae 
Thermodoontea nuper regnante puella. lOf 

Ai tu si tenero mavis torpescere lecto. 



POEM ATA. 529 

Cresccntesque neg-as hosti contundere vires ; 
Tyrrhenum implebit numeroso milite pontum, 
Signaque Aveiitino ponet fulgentia coUe : 
Keliquias vetei'am frang'et, flammisque cremaljit, 110 
Sacraque calcabit pedibus tua coll a profanis, 
Cujus g-audebant soleis dare basia reges. 
Nee tamen hunc belHs et aperto Marte lacesses, 
Irritus ille labor ; tu callidus utere fraude : 
Quaelibet hasreticis dispoiiere retia fas est; 115 

Jamque ad consilium extremis rex mag-nus ab oris 
Patricios vocat, et procerum de stirpe creates, 
Grandaevosque patres trabea, canisque verendos ; 
Hos tu memibratini poteris conspergere in auras, 
Atque dare in cineres, nitrati pulveris igiie 120 

^dibus injecto, qua convenere, sub imis. 
Protinus ipse igitur quoscunque habet Anglia Mos 
Propositi, factique, mone : quisquamne tuorura 
Audebit summi non jussa facessere Papae ? 
Perculsosque metu subito, casiique stupentes 125 

Invadat vel Gallus atrox, vel sasvus Iberus. 
Ssecula sic illic tandem Mariana redibunt, 
Tuque in belligeros iteruni dominaberis Anglos. 
Et nequid timeas, divos divasque secundas 
Accipe, quotque tuis celebrantur numina fastis. 130 
Dixit, et adscitos ponens malefidus amictus 
Fug-it ad infandam, reg'num illaetabile, Lethen. 

Jam rosea Eoas pandens Tithonia portas 
Vesti inauratas redeunti lumine terras; 
Moestaque adhuc nigri deplorans fun era nati 135 

Irrigat ambrosiis montana cacumina guttis: 
Cum somnos pepulit stellata? janitor aula?, 
Nocturnos visus, et somnia grata revolvens. 

Est locus a^terna septus caligine noctis, 
Vasta I'uinosi quondam fundaTuina tecti, 140 

Nunc torvi spelunca Phoni, Prodotceque bilinguis, 
EfFera quos uno peperit Discordia partu. 
Hie inter cajmeiita jacet prajru^taqxie saxa, 
Ossa inhuraata virum, et trajecta cadavera ferrc ; 
Hie dolus intortis semper sedet ater ocellis, 145 

Jurgiaque, et stimulis armata Cal-^imnia fauces, 
Et Furor, atque viee moriendi mille videntur, 
Et timor, exsanguisque locum circuravolat Horror; 
2 A 



630 POEMATA 

Perpetuoque leves per muta silentia Manes 

Exululant, tellus et sanguine conscia stagnat. 150 

Ipsi etiain pavidi latitaut peueti-alibus antri 

Et Plionos, et Prodotes, nulloque sequente per antrum. 

Antrum horrens, scopulosum, atruni feralibus umbris, 

Diffugiunt sontes, et retrd luniina vortuut; 

Hos pugiles Romae per sa?cula longa fideles 155 

Evocat antistes Babylonius, atque ita fatur. 

Finibus occiduis circumfusum incolit eequor 
Gens exosa mihi ; prudens natura ne^'avit 
Indignam penitus nostro conjungere mundo : 
lUuc, sic jubeo, celeri contendite gressu, 160 

Tartareoque leves difflentur pulvere in auras 
Et rex et pariter satrapa^, scelerata propago : 
Et quotquot fidei calueve cupidine verae, 
Consilii sccios adhibete, operisque niinistros. 
Finierat, rigidi cnpide paruere gemelli. 165 

Interea longo flectens curvamine coelos 
Despicit astherea dominus qui fulgurat arce, 
Vanaque perversae ridet conamina turbse, 
Atque sui causam populi volet ipse tueri. 

Esse ferunt spatiura, qua distat ab Aside terra 170 
Fertilis Europe, et spectat Mareotidas undas ; 
Hie turris posita est Titanidos ardua Famae 
JEre-a, lata, sonans, rutilis vicinior astris 
Quam superimpositum vel Athos vel Pelion Ossae. 
Mille fores aditusque patent, totidemque fenestras, 
Amplaque per tenues translucent atria niuros : 176 
Excitat hie varios plebs agglomerata susurros ; 
Qualiter instrepitant circum mulctralia bombis 
Agraina muscarum, aut texto per ovilia junco, 
Dum canis aestivum coeli petit ardua culnien. 180 
Ipsa quidem surania sedet ultrix i!natris in arce, 
Auribus innumeris cinctum caput eniinet olli, 
Queis sonituni exiguum trahit, atque levissima captat 
Murmura, ab extremis patuli confinibus orbis. 
Nee tot, Aristoride servator inique juvencae 185 

Isidos, immiti volvebas lumina vultu, 
Lumina non unquam tacito nuntantia somno, 
Lumina subjectas late spectantia terras. 
Istis ilia solet loca luce carentia saepe 
Perhistrare, etiam radianti impervia soli : 190 



POEMATA. 531 

Millenisqiie loquax auditaque visaque Unguis 
Cuilibet elFundit temeraria ; veraque mendax 
Nunc minuit, modo confictis sermoiiibus auget. 

Sed tamen a nostro meruisti carmine laudes 
Fania, bonum quo non aliud veracius ullum, 195 

Nobis digna cani, nee te memorasse pigebit 
Carmine tarn longo ; servati scilicet Angli 
Officiis, vaga diva, tuis, tibi reddimus aequa. 
Te Deus, aeternos motu qui temperat ignes, 
Fulniine praemisso alloquitur, terraque tremente : 200 
Fama siles 1 an te latet impia Papistarum 
Conjurata cohors in meque meosque Britannos, 
.Et nova sceptigero caedes meditata lacobo? 
Nee plura, ilia statim sensit mandata Tonantis 
Et satis ante fugax stridentis induit alas, 205 

Induit et variis exilia corpora plumis ; 
Dextra tubam gestat Temesaeo ex sere sonoram. 
Nee mora, jam pennis cedentes remigat auras, 
Atque parum est eursu celeres praivertere nubes, 
Jam ventos, jam solis equos post terga reliquit: 210 
Et primo Angliacas, solito de more, per urbes 
Ambiguas voces, incertaque murmura spargit, 
Mox arguta dolos, et detestabile vulgat 
Proditionis opus, nee non facta horrida dictu, 
Authoresque addit seeleris, nee garnila caecis 215 
Insidiis loca structa silet ? stupuere i-elatis, 
Et pariter juvenes, pariter tremuere puellas, 
Effoetique senes pariter, tantajque ruinae 
Sensus ad setatem subito penetraverit omnem. 

Attamen interea populi miserescit ab alto 220 

^thereus pater, et crudelibus obstitit ausis 
Papicolum ; capit poenas raptantur ad acres; 
At pia thura Deo, et grati solvuntur honores ; 
Compita laeta focis genialibus omnia fumant ; 224 
Tui-ba chores juvenilis agit : Quintoque Novembris 
Nulla dies toto occurrit celebratior anno. 



532 POEMATA. 



Jn ohitum Pr<psulis Eliensis, 
(Anno iEtatis 17.) 
Adhuc "macleatcs rore squalebant genae, 

Et sicca noiidum luniina 
Adhiic liqueiitis imbi'e turgebant salis. 

Quern nuper etfudi pius, 
Dum moesta charo justa persolvi rogo t 

Wintoniensis Pra^sulis. 
Cum centiling-Tiis Fania (proh ! semper mail 

Cladisque vera nuntia) 
Spargit per urbes divitis Britanniae, 

Populosque Neptune satos, 10 

Cessisse morti, et ferreis sororibus 

Te generis human i decus, 
Qui rex sacroioim ilia fuisti in insula 

Quae noineii Anguillce tenet. 
Tunc inquietum pectus ira protinus 15 

Ebulliebat fervida, 
Tumulis potentem saepe devovens deam : 

Nee vota Naso in Ibida 
Concepit alto diriora pectore ; 

Graiusque vates parcius 20 

Turpem Lycanibis execratus est doluni, 

Sponsamque Neobolen suam. 
At ecce diras ipse dum fundo g'raves, 

Et imprecor neci neceni, 
Audisse tales videor attonitus sonos 2.5 

Leni, sub aura, flamine : 
Caecos furores pone, pone vitream 

Bilemque, et irritas minas, 
Quid temere violas non nocenda laumina, 

Subitoque ad iras percita? 30 

Non est, ut arbitraris elusus miser. 

Mors atra Noctis filia, 
Ereb6ve patre creta, sive Erinnye, 

Vastove nata sub Chao: 
Ast ilia coelo raissa stellato, Dei 35 

Messes ubique coUigit ; 
Animasque mole carnea reconditas 

In lucem et auras evocat; 



POEMATA. 5g3 

Vt cum fu^aces excitant Horse diem 

Theniidos Jovisque filise ; 40 

Et sempiterni ducit ad vultus patris : 

At justa raptat impios 
Sub reg-na furvi luctuosa Tartari, 

Sedesque subterraneas, 
Hanc ut vocantem laetus audivi, cito 45 

Foedutn reliqui carcerem, 
VolatilesqTie faustus inter milites 

Ad astra sublirais feror : 
Vates ut dim raptus ad coelum senex 

Auriga currus ig-nei. 50 

Non me Bootis terruere lucidi 

Sarraca tarda frigore, aut 
Formidolosi scorpions brachia, 

Non ensis Orion tuus. 
Prsetervolavi fulgidi solis globum 55 

Longeque sub pedibus deam 
Vidi ti-iformera, dum coercebat sue 

Frsenis dracones aureis. 
Erraticorum, siderum per ordines 

Per lecteas vehor plagas, 60 

Velocitatem saspe miratus novam*, 

Donee nitentes ad fores 
Ventum est Olympi, et regiam crystallinam, et 

Stratum smaragdis atrium. 
Sed hie tacebo, nam quis efFari queat 65 

Oriundus humane patre, 
Amoenitates illius loci ? mihi 

Sat est in eternum frui. 

Naturam non pafi senium. 

Heu quam perpetuis erroribus acta fatiscit 

Avia mens hominum, tenebrisque immersa profundi^ 

CEdipodioniam volvit sub pectore noctem ! 

Quas vesana suis metiri facta deorum 

Audet, et incisas leges adamante perenni 5 

Assimiiare suis, nulloque solubile sseclo 

Consilium fati perituris alligat horis. 

Ergone marcescet sulcant.ibus obsita rugia 
Natures facies, et rerum publica mater 



534 POEMATA. 

Omniparum contracta uteram sterilescet ixh aero? 10 
Et se fassa senem male certis passibus ibit 
Sidereum tremebunda caput ? num tetra vetustas 
Annoruriique seterna fames, squallorque situsquc 
Sidei-a vexabunt? an et insatiabile Tempiis 
Esuriet Coeliim, rapietque in viscera patrem 1 15 

Heu, potnitne suas imprudens Jupiter arces 
Hoc contra raunisse nefas, et Temporis isto 
Exemisse malo, g-yrosque dedisse perennes ? 
Ergo erit ut quandoque sono dilapsa tremendo 
Coiivexi tabulata ruant, atque obvius ictu 20 

Stridet uterque polus, superaque ut Olympius aula 
Decidat, horribilisque retecta Gorgone Pallas; 
Quails in ^geam proles Jimonia Lemnon 
Deturbata sacro cecidit de limine coeli 1 
Tu quoque Phoebe, tui casus imitabere nati 25 

Praicipiti cun'u, subitaque ferere ruina 
Pronus, et extincta fumabit lampade Nereus, 
Et dabit attonito feralia sibila ponto. 
Tunc etiam aerei divulsus sedibus Haemi 
DissuJtabit apex, imoque allisa barathro 30 

Terrebunt Stygium dejecta Ceraunia Diteni, 
In superort quibus usus erat, fratemaque bella. 
At Pater omnipotens, fundatis fortius astris, 
Consuluit rerum summa?, certoque peregit 
Pondere fatorum lances, atque ordine summo 35 

Singula perpetuum jussit servare tenorem. 
Volvitur hinc lapsu mundi rota prima diurno ; 
Raptat et ambitos socia vertigine cuelos. 
Tardior haud solito Saturnus, et acer ut olim 
Fulmineum rutilat cristata casside Mavors. 40 

Floridus aeternum Phoebus juvenile coruscat, 
Nee fovet effoetas loca per declivia terras 
Bevexo temone Deus ; sed semper arnica 
Lvice potens, eadem currit per signa rotarum 
Surgit odoratis pariter formosis ab Indis, 45 

jEthereum pecus albenti qui cogit Olympo 
Mane vocans, et serus age^ns in pasciia coeli; 
Temporis et g-emino disperdt reg-na colore. 
Fulget, obitque vices alterno Delia cornu, 
Ca^ruleumque ignein paribus complectitur ulnis. 50 
Nee variant elementa fidem, solitoque fragore 



POEMATA. 535 

Lurida perculsas jaculantur fulmina rupes. 
Nee per inane furit leviori miirmure Corxis, 
Stringit et armiferos sequali horrore Gelonos 54 

Trux Aquilo, spiratque hyemem, nimbosque volutat. 
Utque solet, Siculi diverberat ima Pelori 
Rex maris, et rauca circumstrepit aq^iora concha 
Oceaui Tubicen, nee vasta mole minorem 
/Ei^eona ferunt dorso Balearica cete. 
Sed neque, Terra, tibi saecli vigor ille vetusti 60 

Pi'iscus abest, servatque smim Narcissus odorem, 
Et puer ille suum tenet, et puer ille, decorem, 
Phoebe tuusque et Cypri tans, nee ditior olim 
Terra datum sceleri celavit montibus aurum 64 

Conscia, vel sub aquis g-emmas. Sic denique in sevum 
Ibit cunctanim series j istissima rerum ; 
Donee flamma orbem populabitur ultima, late 
Circumplexa polos, et vastL eulmina coeli ; 
Ingentique rogo flagrabit machina mundi. 09 

De Idea Platonica quemadmodum 
Aristoteles intellexit. 

DiciTE, sacrorum prsesides neniorum deai 

Tuque O noveni perbeata numinis 

iVfemoria mater, quaeque in iramenso procul 

Antro recumbis otiosa ^ternitas, 

Monumenta servans, et ratas leges Jovis, 5 

Coelique fastos atque ephemeridas Deum, 

Quis ille primus cujus ex imagine 

Natura solers finxit human um g-enus, 

/^^^ternus, ineorruptus, asqitaevus polo, 

Unusque et univei-siis, exemplar Dei? 10 

Haud ille Palladis gemellus innubse 

Interna proles insidet menti Jovis ; 

Sed quamlibet natura sit communior, 

Famen seorsus extat ad morem unius, 

Et, mira, eerto string-itur spatio loci; 15 

Seu sempiternus ille siderum comes 

Coeli pererrat ordines deeemplicis, 

Citimumve terris incolit lunae globum : 

Sive inter animas corpus adituras sedens, 

Obliviosas torpet ad Lethes aquas : W) 



636 POEM ATA, 

Sive in remota forte terrarum plag'ti 

Incedit ingens hominis arclietypus g-igftS, 

Kt diis tremendus erigit celsum caput, 

Atlante major portitore siderum. 

Non, cui profundum caecitas lumen dedit, 2«> 

Dircajus aug"ur vidit hunc alto sinu ; 

Non hunc silenti nocte Plelones nepos 

Vatum sagaci praepes ostendit choro ; 

Non hunc sacerdos novit Assjrius, licet 

Longos vetusti commemoret atavos Nini, 30 

Priscumque Belon, inclytunxque Osiridem. 

Non ille trino gloriosus nomine 

Ter magnus Hermes (ut sit arcani sciens) 

Talem reliquit Isidis cultoribus. 

At tu perenne ruris Academi deciis 35 

(Haec monstra si tu primus induxti scholis) 

Jam jam, poetas urbis exules tuas 

Revocabis, ipse fabulator maximus; 

Aut institutor ipse migrabis foras. 39 

A.d Patrem. 

Nunc mea Pierios cnpiam per pectora sontes 
Irriguas torquere vias, totumque per ora 
Volvere laxatum gemino de vertice rivum ; 
Ut tenues oblita sono« audacibus alis 
Surgat in officium venerandi Musa parentis. f> 

Hoc utcunque tibi gratum, pater optime, carmen 
Exiguum meditatur opus : nee noviraus ipsi 
Aptius a nobis quse possint munera donis 
Respondere tuis, quamvis nee maxima possint 
Respondere tuis, nedum ut par gratia donis 1^ 

Esse queat, vacuis quaj redditur arida verbis. 
Sed tamen hasc nostros ostendit pagina census, 
Et quod habemus opum charta numeravimus ista, 
Quas mihi sunt nulla, nisi quas dedit aurea Clio, 
Quas mihi semoto somni perperere sub antro, 1» 

Et nemoris laureta sacri Parnassides umbrae. 
Nee tu vatis opus divinnm despice carmen, 
Quo nihil aethereos ortus, et semina cceli, 
Nil magis humanam commendat origine mentem, 
Sancta Prometheae retinens vestigia flammas. 20 



POEM ATA. 537 

Carmen amant superi,tveraebiindaque Tartara cai'men 
Ima ciere valet, divosque lig-are profandos, 
Et triplici duros Manes adaniante coercet. 
Carmini sepositi retegunt arcana fiituri 
Phoebades, et tremuUe pallentes ora Sibyllte ; 25 

Carmina sacrificiis sollennes pangit ad aras, 
A urea seu sternit motantem cornua taurura ; 
Seu ciim fata sagax fumantibus abdita fibris 
Consulit, et tepidis Parcam scrutatur in extis. 29 
Nos etiam patrium tunc eum repeteraus Olympum, 
JSternaeque morae stabunt immobilis asvi; 
Ibirnus auratis per coeli templa coronis, 
Dulcia suaviloque sociantes carmina plectro, 
Astra quibus, geminique poli convexa sonabunt. 
Spiritus et rapidos qui circinat igneus orbes, 35 

Nunc quoque sidereis intercinit ipse choreis 
Immortale melos, et inenarrabile carmen ; 
Torrid a dum rutilus compescit sibila serpens, 
Demissoque ferox gladio raansuescit Orion ; 
Stellarum nee sentit onus Maurusius Atlas. 40 

Carmina regales epulas ornare solebant, 
Cum nondum luxus, vastseqtie immensa vorag'O 
Nota guise, et modico spamabat coena Lyeeo. 
Turn de more sedens festa ad convivia vates, 
^sculea intonsos redimitus ab arbore crines, 45 

Heroumque actus, imitandaque gesta canebat, 
Et chaos, et positi late fundamina mundi, 
Reptantesque deos, et alentes numina glandes, 
Et nondum ^tneo quaesitum fulmen ab antro. 
Denique quid vocis modulamen inane "uviOit 50 

Verborum sensusque vacans, numerique loquacis 1 
Silvestres decet iste choros, non Orphea cantus, 
Qui tenuit fluvios, et quercubus addidit aures, 
Carmine, non cithara; simulachraque funv'ta canendo 
Compulit in lachrymas ; habet has a carmine laudes. 
Nee tu perg-e precor, sacras contemnere Musas, 56 
Nee vanas inopesque puta, quarum ipse peritus 
Munere, mille sonos numeros componis ad aptos, 
Millibus et vocen[i modulis variare canoram 
Doctus, Arionii meritd sis nominis hseres. 00 

Nunc tibi quid mirum, si me genuisse poetani 
Contig-erit, charo si tam prope sanguine junrti, 
2 A2 



538 POEM ATA. 

Cognatas artes, studiunique affine seqiiamur? 
Ipse voleiis Phoebus se dispertire duobus, 
Altera dona mihi, dedit altera dona parenti, 05 

Dividuumque Deum, genitorqiie puerque, tenemus. 

Tu tamen ut simules teneras odisse Camoenas, 
Non odisse reor; neque enim, pater, ire jubebas 
Qua via lata patet, qua pronior area lucri, 
Certaque condendi laiget spes aurea nummi 7Q 

Nee rapis ad lege?, male custoditaque gentis 
Jura, nee insukis da;nnas clamoribus aures ; 
Sed magis excultam cupiens ditescere mentem, 
Me procul urbaao strepitu, secessibus altis 
Abductum Aoniae jucunda per otia ripf^, 75 

Phoebaeo lateri comitem sinis ire beatum. 
Oiiiciuni chara taceo commune parentis, 
Me poscunt niajora : tuo, pater optime, sumptu 
Ciim mihi Romulete patuit facundia linguae, 
Et Latii veneres, et quas Jovis era decebant 80 

Grandia magniloquis elata vocabula Graiis, 
Addere suasisti quos iactat Gallia fiores ; 
Et quam degeneri novus Italus ore loquelam 
Fundit, barbaricos testatus voce tumultus, 
Quseque Palaestinus loquitur mystcria vates. 85 

Denique quicquid habet coelum, sublectaque cozlo 
Terra parens, terrseque et coelo interfluus aer, 
Quicquid et unda tegit, pontique agitabile marmor. 
Per te nosse licet, per te, si nosse libebit : 
Dimotaque venit spectanda scientia nube, 90 

Nuda que conspicuos inclinat ad oscula vultus, 
Mi fugisse velim, ni sit libjisse molestum. 

I nunc, confer opes, quisqais inalesanus avitas 
Austriaci gazas, Periianaque regna praeoptas. 
Quai potuit majora pater tribuisse, vel ipse 95 

Jupiter, excepto, donasset ut omnia, coelo' 
Non potiora dedit, quamvis et tuta fuissent, 
Publica qui juveni commisit lumina nato 
At que Hyperionis currus, et fraena diei, 
Et circum undantem radiata luce tiaram. 100 

Ergo ego jam doctae pars quamlibet ima catervse 
Victrices hederas inter, laurosque sedebo ; 
Jamque nee obscurus populo miscebor inerti, 
Vitabuntque oculos vestigia nostra profanos. 



POEM AT A. 539 

Este procul vigiles curse, procul este querelee, 103 

Invidiasque acies transverse tortilis hirquo, 

Saeva nee anguiferos extend e calumnia rictus ; 

In me triste nihil foedissima turba potestis, 

Nee vestri sum juris ego ; securaque tutus 

Pectora, vipereo gradiar sublimis ab ictu. 110 

At tibi, chare pater, postquam non sequa merenti 
Posse referre datur, nee dona rependere factis, 
Sic memorasse satis, repe;itaque munera grato 
Perceiusere aninio, fidar^que reponex'e menti. 

Et ^os, O nostri, juvenilia carmina, lusus, 115 

Si modo perpetuos sperare audebitis annos, 
Et domini superesse rogo, luceraque tueri, 
Nee Jspisso rapient oblivia nigra sub Oreo, 
Forsican has laudes, decantatumque parentis 
Nomen, ad exemplum, sero servabitis aevo. 120 

PSALM CXIV. 
I2PA'HA on ?ra;^2?, or ocyXoca, (pdx' ^locjcu-fjov 

AlyV-TfTtOV X'lTTi d?if/,OV^ Ci'Tn^^iOi, (oOiplZoiOO(pMVOV, 

Ah r'.Ti f/,ovvo)) Ir'nv otTiov y'vog vh; ^louocc. 
*Ev ^£ hos Xaolffi uiyo:, koh'mv fs>acCiXiuiv. 
E;^£, fcoc.) ivr^o-prd^nv (pvycc^ Ifpconart Bof^Xatrifix. 5 

Kuf^ocTi t]Xvf/,i.vn ^odtM, oV a^ i(Tru(pzXi^0yi 
'ifios Io0^a,yy;s <^ot\ OLfj^yvPondioi. Trviyhv. 
Eh, F opzoc ff7(,a,p&f/.olcriv ccTrtioiffix KXoviovrOi 
fi? xpio] (r(pp{yoMVTis lvpa.(pipu} Iv aXuf/i 
'BonoTipoci d ci/!/,o(, ^acai a,ycca'>cipT'^a'av If/Vva/, 10 

Old <zrix,peci (Tvptyyi (ptXri v^tto f/,7^rspi aovz?. 
T/Vrs crvy^ otiva. ^dcXoco'crcii <z:'iXcdp ^vyoui ifp6tjr](rcc$ 
KvfAocri ilXvfA.iv'h ^oStoo ; <r/ ^' a^" lerrv(pzXi^^yi§ 
'l^os 'lo^^ivyj '71'or) ot^yv^ozt^ici 'prnym ; 
Ti5rr opicc <nto(.p0f/,ol(riv a.'Trupia'iGi, KXoviiffSt. 15 

*Q.g xpio) (r(pptyoMVTiis \vTpo(,(pipM Iv aXcoyj ; 
'Bof.ioTipex.t Tt (xp Vf/,fjcs$ a.'iiocff}cipTr,<roe.T £^<Vva/, 
Ola Tccpoc) ffvpiyyi (ptX^ ii'pro /Lcrnpt aovis j 
Sg/gfl ya,7oi, r^iovarec hov fAtyy.X' iJcrvptiovroi 
"Boclx 0iov T^iioua"' v'^KTov (rip>ocs ^Iffffocjtlooco^ 20 

*Oj ri xcci Ix. i^TCiX'xbuM TToroc^ovg ^ii fx,o^(AV^ovr»$, 



540 POEM ATA. 

Philosophus ad regem queridam, qui eum ignotum et 
insontem inter reos forte captum inscius damnave- 
rat, rm l^v ^avo^TM Tro^tvo/Lc&vos, h(£c subito misit, 
*Q. ava, s/ oXieryi? f^z rov svvofcov^ ovVz riv av^oeov 
Asivcv oXm$ o^do'ocvTXi coipMrccTov 'IffSi jc6(ptjvov 
VyiibtMS oi.(piXo40j to d' vtTT&pov ecu^t von<rns» 
Moc^idiMS a.^ i9riiTcx, t&ov w^os ^vf^olv chvo'^y 
Toiov iK '^oXio; mptuvvfjcov ciXKcx,p oXicrerocs, 

In effigiei ejus Sculptorem. 

^DciYi? roi^ av, 'TT^os ii^og ocl'ro(pv\? f^Xi^rcov. 
Toy d IjcrvTTurov o'jx, iTnyvons iplXot 
TiXciri (pocvXav ^vfffjclfjCTi^ix, Z^uypo:.(pou, 



Ad Salsillum Poet am Romanum a^grotantem, 

SCAZONTES. 

O MusA gressutn quse volens trahis claudum, 
Vulcanioque tarda gaudes incessu. 
Nee sentis illud in loco minus gratum, 
Quam cum decentes flava Deiope suras 
Alternat aureum ante Junonis lectum ; 5 

Adesdum et hjec s'is verba pauca Salsillo 
Refer, Camoena nostra cui tantiim est cordi, 
Quamqne ille magnis prgefrulit immeritd divis. 
Hgec ergo alumnus ille Londini Milto, 
Diebus hisce qui suum linquens nidum 10 

Polique tractum, pessimus ubi ventorum. 
In sanientis impotensque pulmonis, 
Pernix anhela sub Jove exercet flabra, 
Venit feraces Itali soli ad glebas, 

Visum superba cognitas urbes fama 15 

Virosque, docta?qiie indolem juventutis. 
TiW optat idem hie fausta multa, Salsille, 
Habitumque fesijo corpori penitiis sanum ; 
Cui nunc profunda bills infestat renes, 
Praecordiisque fixa damnosum spirat ; 20 

Nee id pepercit impia quod tu Romano 
Tarn cultus ore Lesbium condis melos. 
O dulce divum munus, O salus Hebes 



POEMATA 541 

Germana ! Tuque Phcebe morborum terror, 

Pytbone cseso, sive tu magis Paean 25 

Libenter audis, hie tuus sacerdos est. 

Querceta Fauni, vosque rore vinoso 

Colies benigni, mitis Evandri sedes, 

Siquid salubre v alii bus froiidet vestris. 

Lav amen aegro ferte certatim vati. 30 

Sic ille, charis redditus rursiim Musis, 

Vicina dulci prata mulcebit cantu. 

Ipse iuter atros emirabitur lucos 

Numa, ubi beatum degit otium seternum, 

Suam reclivis semper ^geriam spectans. 35 

Tumidusque et ipse Tibris, hinc delinitus 

Spei favebit annuae colonoram : 

Nee in sepulchris ibit obsessum reges 

Nimium sinistro lax us irruens loro : 

Sed fraena melius temperabit undarum, 40 

Adusque curvi falsa regna Portumni. 



MANSUS. 

Joannes Baptista Mansus Marchio Vilensis,vir iiip:en{i laude, turn 
literanini studio, nee non et bellica virtute apud Italos clarus 
in primis est. Ad qneni Torqiiuti i assi dialosjiis extat de Anii- 
citia scriptus; er.it enini Tassi amicissimus; ab quo etiani inter 
Campaniac principes celebraiur, in ilio poemate cui titulus Ge- 
rusalemme Conqnistula, lib. 20. 

Fra cavaiicr mag-nanimi, e Corteci 
Risplendeil Manso 

Is authorem Neapoli conimorantem snmma benevolentia prose- 
cutus est, nuiltaqne el detiiiit hunianitatis oflRcia. Ad hnnc it;^ 
que liosr)es ille antequani ab ea urbe discederet, ut ne ingratum 
se osttriiderat, hoc carmen misit. 

H^c quoque, Manse, tuae meditantur carmina laudi 
Pierides, tijbi, Manse, cboro notissime Phoebi, 
Quandoquidem ille alium baud aequo est dignatus ho 
Post Galli eineres, et Mecasnatis Hetrusei. [nore 
Tu quoque, si nostras tantum valet aura Camoenas, O 
Victrices hederas inter, laurosque sedebis. 
Te pridem raagno felix concordia Tasso 
Junxit, et asternis inscripsit nomina chartis ; 
Mox tibi dulciloquum non inscia Musa Marinum 



542 POEM AT A. 

Tradidit; ille tuum dici se gaudet aliiranum 10 

Duin canit Assyrios diviim prolixus amores ; 

Mollis et Ausonias stupefecit carmine nymphas, 

Ille itidem uioriens tibi soli debita vates 

Ossa, tibi soli, supremaque vota reliquit : 

Nee manes pietas tua chara fefellit amici ; 15 

Vidimus arridentem operoso ex aere poetam. 

Nee satis hoc visum est in utrumque, et nee pia ces- 

Officia in tumulo ; cupis integros rapere Oreo, [sant 

Qua potes, atque avidas Parcarum eludere leges : 

Amborum genus, et varia sub sorte peractam 20 

Desci'ibis vitam, moresque, et dona Minerva? ; 

^mulus illius, Mycalen qui natus ad altam, 

Retulit i^iolii vitam facundus Homeri. 

Ergo ego te, Clius et magni nomine Phoebi, 

Manse pater, jubeo longum salvere per aevum, 25 

Missus Hypei'boreo juvenis peregrinus ab axe. 

Nee tu longinquam bonus aspernabare Musam, 

Quae nuper gelida vix enutrita sub Arcto 

Imprudens Italas ausa est volitare per urbes. 

Nos etiam in nostro modulantes flumine cygnos 30 

Credimus obscuras noctes sensisse per umbras, 

Qua Thamesis late puris argenteus urnis 

Oceani Glaucos perfundit gurgite crines : 

Quin et in has quondam pervenit Tityrus oras. 

Sed neque nos genus incultum, nee inutile Phoebo 
Qua plaga septeno mundi sulcata Trione 3C 

Brumalem patitur longa sub nocte Booten. 
Nos etiam colimus Phoebum, nos munera Phoebo 
Flaventes spicas, et lutea mala canistris, 
Halentemque crocum (perhibet nisi vana vetustas)40 
Misimus, et lectas Druidum de gente choreas. 
CGens Druides antiqua sacris operata deorum 
Heroum laudes imitandaque gesta canebant) 
Hinc quoties festo cingunt altaria cantu 
Delo in herbosa Graise de more puellae, 45 

Carminibus laetis memorant Corineida Loxo, 
Fatidicamque Upin, cum flavicoma Hecaerge, 
Nuda Caledonio variatas pectora fuco. 

Fortunate senex, ergo quacunque per orbem 
Torquati decus, et nomen celebrabitur in gens, 50 
Claraque perpetui succrescet fama Marini ; 



I'OEMATA. 54S 

Til quoqiie in ci-a frequens veiiies, plaiisumque vii-o- 
Et paviii cai']:!es iter iniuioitale volatu. [rum, 

Dicetur turn spoute tuo^ habitasse peiiates 
Cyiithiiis, et famulas venistje ad limiiia Musas : 55 
At non sponte douiuni tamen idem, et regis adivit 
Rura Pheretiadaj, coelo fug itivus Apollo ; 
Ille licet magnum Alciden susceperat hospes ; 
Tantum ubi clamosos placuit vitare bubulcos, 
Nobile maiisueti cessic Chiiouis in antrunj, (iO 

Irriguos inter salrus, fW)ndosaque tecta, 
Peneium prope rivum : ibi stepe sub ilice nigra. 
Ad citharie strepitiim, blanda pi'ece viotus amici, 
Exilii duros lenibat voce labores. 

Turn neque ripa suo, baratbro nee fixa sub imo 65 
Saxa stetere loco ; nutat Trachinia rupes, 
Nee sentit solitas, immania pondera, silras ; 
Emota^que suis properant de collibus orni, 
Mulcenturque novo maeulosi carmine lynces. 

Diis dilecte senex, te Jupiter ajquus oportet 70 
Kascentem, et miti lustrarat lumine Phoebus, 
Atlantisque nepos; neque enim, nisi cliarus ab ortu 
Diis sxi;eris, poterit magno favisse poetise. 
Hine longaeva tibi lento sub flore senectus 
Vernat, et ^sonios lueratur vivida fusos ; 75 

Nondum deciduos servans tibi frontis honores, 
Ing-eniumque vigens, et adultum mentis aeusnen. 
O mihi si mea sors talem concedat amicuin, 
Phoebaeos decorasse viros qui tarn bene norit, 
£i quando indigenas revocabo in carmina reg-es, 80 
Arturumque etiam sub terris bella moventem ! 
Aut dicam invicta9 sociali foedere mensse 
Mag-nanimos Heroas, et (O modo spiritus adsit) 
Frangam Saxonicas Britonem sub Marte phalanges. 
Tandem ubi non tacita? permensus tempora vitae, 85 
Annorumque satur, cineri sua jura relinquam, 
Ille mihi lecto madidis astaret oceilis, 
Astanti sat erit si dicam, sim tibi curge ; 
Ille meos artus, liventi mcrte solutos, 
Curaret parvet componi molliter urna : 90 

Forsitan et nostros ducat de marmore vultus, 
Nectens aut Paphia myrti aut Parnasside lauri 
Fronde cemas, at ego secura pace quiescam. 

2 N 



514 POEMATA. 

Turn quoque, si qua fides, si praemia certa bonoraasa, 
Ipse ego caelicolum seinotus in ccthera divum, Q.l 

Quo labor et mens pura vehunt, atque ignea virtUS; 
Seci'eti htec aliqua niundi de parte \idebo, 
Quantum fata sinunt : et tota mente serenum 
Ridens, purpureo suffundar lumine vultus, 
Et simul aethereo plaudam mihi Isetus Olympo. 100 



EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 

ARGUMENTUM. 

T!iyrsis et Damon ejiisdem vicini«; paslores, eadem studia sequiiti, 
a pneritiii aiiiici eVuiit, iit (jiii pliirinuiiii. Tliyrsis aiiiiiii causa 
profectiis pert'gre <le obitii D.uuoiiis niuiciiini accei'it. Doirmin 
postea n-versns, et rem ita esse coniper.o, se, stiamque solitii- 
dinem hoc car.i iue deplorat. Daiiioiiis aiiteni sub persoua liir 
iiitelliiiitiir Caroliis Deodatiis ex iirbe Jletriirias Luca paterno 
geiiere ortiindus, ca^tera Aimliis; iugenio, doctrii^a, clarbsi- 
misque cteteris virtutibus, dum' viveret, juvenis egregius. 

HiMERiDES nymphffi (nam vos et Daphnin et Hylan, 
Et plorata diu meministis fata Bionis) 
Dicite Sicelicura Thamesina per oppida cannen: 
Quas miser effudit voces, quae murmura Thyrsis, 
Et quibus assiduis exercuit antra querelis, 5 

Fluminaque, fontesque vagos, nemorumque recessus; 
Dum sibi prgeruptum queritur Damona, neque altank 
Luctibus exemit noctem loca sola pererrans- 
Et jam bis viridi surgebat culmus arista, 
Et totidem flavas numerabant horrea messes, 10 

Ex quo summa dies tulerat Damona sub umbras, 
Nee dum aderat Thyrsis; pastorem scilicet ilium 
Dulcis amor Musa? Thusca retinebat in urbe. 
Ast ubi mens expleta domum, pecorisque relicti 
Cura vocat, simul assueta seditque sub ulmo, 13 

Tum vero amissum tum denique sentit amicum, 
Coepit et immensum sic exonerare dolorem. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Hei mihi! quae terris, quae dicam numina coelo, 
Postquam te immiti rapuerunt funere, Damon ! ^ 
Siccine nos linquis, tua sic sine nomine virtus 
Ibit, et obscuris numero sociabitur umbris 1 



POEMATA. bt^ 

At non ille, animas virga qui dividit aui-ea, 
Ista velit, dignumque tui te ducat in agmen, 
Ignavumque procul pecus arceat omne silentura. 25 

Ite domiim impasti, domino jam nou vncat, ajrni. 
Quicquid erit, certe nisi mie lupus ant^ videbit, 
Indeplorato non conxminuere sepulchro, 
Constabitque tuus tibi honos, longumque vig-ebit 
Inter pastores : Illi tibi vota secundo 30 

Solvere post Daphnin, post Daphnin dicere laudes 
Gaudebunt, dum rura Pales, dum Faunus amabit: 
Si quid id est, pi'iscamque fidem coluisse, pidmque, 
Palladiaaque artes, sociamque habuisse canorum. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 35 
Haec tibi certamanent,tibierunthascpraimia, Damon, 
At mihi quid tandem fiet modo ? quis mihi fidus 
Haerebit lateri cdmes, nt tu saipe solebas 
Frig-oribus duris, et per ioca foeta pruinis, 
Aut rapido sub sole, siti morientibus hei'bis? 49 

Sive opxxs in mag'nos fuit eniiniis iie leones, 
Aut avidos terrere lupos prtesepibus altis 
Quis fando sopire diem, cantuque solebit '? 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, ag'ni. 
Pectora cui credam 1 quis me Icnire docebit 45 

Mordaces curas, quis longam fallere noctem 
Dulcibus alloquiis, grato cum sibilat iyni 
Molle pyrum, et nucibus strepitat focus, et malus 
Miscet cuncta foris, et desuper intonat ulmo ? [auster 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 50 
Aut asstate, dies medio dum vertitur axe, 
Cum Pan Eesculea somnum capit abditus umbra, 
Et repetunt sub aquis sibi nota sedilia nymphss, 
Pastoresque latent, stertit sub sepe colonus ; 
Quis mihi blanditiasque tuas, quis tum milii risus, 53 
Cecropiosque sales referet, cultosque lepores 1 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
At jam solus agros, jam pascua solus oberro, 
Sicubi ramosEC densantur vallibus umbrse ; 
Hie serum expecto ; supra caput imber et Eurus 60 
Iriste sonant, fractasque agitata crepuscula sylvse. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Heu, quam culta mihi prius arva procacibus herbis 
Involvuntur, et ipsa situ seges alta fatisciti 



546 POEMATA. 

Innuba neglecto marcescit et uva i-acemo, 65 

Nee myrteta juvant ; ovium quoque taedet, at illfe 
Moerent, inque suum convetiuit ora rnagistrura. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agrii. 
Tityrus ad corylos vocat, Aiphesiboeus ad ornos, 
Ad salices Aegon, ad fiumina pulcher Amyntas, 70 
* Hie gelidi foutes, hie illita gramina museo, 
Hlo Zephiri, h!e placidas interstrepit arbutus undas ;' 
Ista eanunt surdo, frutices ego nactus abibam. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Mopsus ad haec, nam me redeuntem forte notai*at, 75 
Et cailebat avium linguas, et sldera ]\ropsus) 
Thyrsi quid hoc 1 dixit, quae te coquit improba bilis 1 
Aut te perdit amor, aut te male fascinat astrum, 
Saturni grave saepe fuit pastoribus asti-um, 
Intimaque obliquo figit praecordia plumbo. 80 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Mirantur nymphge, et quid te. Thyrsi, futurum est ? 
Quid tibi vis 1 aiunt, non haec solet esse juventae 
Nubila frons, oculique truces, vultusque severij 
Ilia choros, lususque leves, et semper amorem 85 
Jure petit, bis ille miser qui serus amavit. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Venit Hyas, Dryopeque, et filia Baucidis Aegle 
Docta modos, cithareeque sciens, sed perdita fastu, 
Venit Idumanii Chlorus vicina fluenti ; SK) 

Nil me blanditiae, nil me solantia verba. 
Nil me, si quid adest, movet, aut spes ulla futuri. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Hei raihi, quam similes ludunt per prata juvenci, 
Omnes unanimi secum sibi lege sodales ! 93 

Nee magis hunc alio quisquam secernit amicum 
De grege, si densi veniunt ad pabula thoes, 
Inque vicem hirsuti paribus junguntur onagri ; 
Lex eadem pelagi, deserto in littore Proteus 
Agmina phocarum numerat, vilisque volucrum ICd 
Passer habet semper quicum sit, et omnia circunj 
Farra libens volitet, sero sua tecta revisens. 
Quern si sors letho objecit, sua milvus adunco 
Fata tulit rostro, seu stravit arundine fossor, 
Protinus ille alium. socio petit inde volatii. 10' 

No3 durum genus, et diris exercita fatis 



POEMATA. 547 

Gens homines, aliena animis, et pectore disoors* 
Vix sibi quisque parem de millibus invenit ununi ; 
Aut si sors dederit tandem non aspera votis. 
Ilium inopina dies qua non speraveiis hora 110 

Surripit, aeternum linquens in saecula damnuxft 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, ag-ni. 
Heu quis me ignotas traxit vagus error in oras 
Ire per aereas rupes, Alpemque nivosam! 
Ecquid erat tanti Rom am vidisse sepultam, 115 

(Quamvis ilia foret, qualem dum viseret olim, 
Tityrus ipse suas et oves et rura reliquit ;) 
Ut te tarn dulci possem caruisse sodale, 
Possem tot maria alta, tot interponere monies 
Tot sylvas, tot saxa tibi, fluviosque sonantes! 120 
Ah certe extremiim liciiisset tangere dextram, 
Et bene composites plaoide morientis ocellos, 
Et dixisse ' Vale, nostri memor ibis ad ast""? ' 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Quamquam etiam vestri nunquam meminissepigebit, 
Pastores Thusci, Musis operata juveiitus, 125 

Hie Chans, atque Lepos ; et Thuscus tu quoque Damon 
Antiqua genus unde petis Lucumonis ab urbe. 
O ego quantus eram, gelidi cum stratus ad Arni 
Murmura, populeumque nemus, qua molliov >>erba, 
Carpere nunc violas, nunc summas carpers myrtos, 
Et potui Lycidai certantem audire Menalcam, 
Ipse etiam tentare ausus sum, nee puto multum 
Displicui, nam sunt et apud me munera vestra 
Fiscellae, calathique, et cerea vincla cicut;^ : 135 

Quin et nostra suas docuerunt nomina fagos 
Et Datis, et Francinus, erant et vocibus ambo 
Et studiis noti, Lydoruni sanguinis ambo. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Hasc mihi tum laeto dictabat roscida luna, 110 

Dum solus teneros claudebam cratibus hoedos. 
Ah quoties dixi, cum te cinis ater habebat 
Nunc canit, aut lepori nunc tendit retia .^/dmon, 
Vimina nunc texit, varios sibi quod sit in usus'. 
Et quse turn facili sperabam mente futura 146 

Ai-rigui voto levis, et prresenta finxi, 
Heus bone numquid agis? nisi te quid forte retardat» 
Imus ? et arguta paulum recubamus in umbra. 



548 POEM ATA. 

Aiit ad aquas Colni, aut iibi jug-era Caseibelauni ? 
Txx mihi percurres medicos, tua gramiiia succos, 150 
Helleborumque, humilesque crocos, foliumque 

hyacinthi. 
Quasque habet ista paltis herbas, artesque medentuin. 
Ah pereant lierbae, pereant artesque medeiitum, 
Graniina, postquaiu ipsi nil profecere magistro. 
Ipse etiam, nam nescio quid mihi graude sonabat 
Fistula, ab undecima jam lux est altera nocte, 150 
Et turn forte novis admoram labra cicutis, 
Dissiluere tamen lupta compage, nee ultra 
Ferre graves potuorc sonos, dubito quoque ne sim 
Turg'idulus, tamen et referam, vos cedite sylvee. 160 

Ite domum impasti, domino ;am non vacat, agni. 
Ipse ego Dardanias Rutupina per a;quora puppes 
Dicam, et Pandrasidos regnum vetus Inogenia?, 
Brennumque Arvigarumque duces, priscumque 

Belinum, 
Et tandem Armoricos Britonum sub lege colonos ; 
Turn gravidam Arturo fatali fraude Ibgernen, 166 
Mendaces vultus, assumptaque Gorlois arma, 
Merlini dolus. O mihi turn si vita supersit, 
Tu procul annosa pendebis fistula pinu 
Multum oblita mihi ; aut patriis mutata Camoenis 170 
Brittonicum strides, quid enim ? omnia non licet uni 
Non spersase uni licet omnia, mi satis ample 
Merces, et mihi grande decus (sim ignotus in asvum 
Tum licet, externo penitusque inglorius orbi) 
Si me flava comas legat Usa, et potor Alauni, 175 
Vorticibusque frequens Abra, et nemus omne Treantae, 
Et Thamesis meus ante omnes, et fusca metallis 
Tamara. et extremis me discant Orcades undis. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, ag"ni. 
Heec tibi servabam lenta sub cortice lauri, 180 

Haec, et plura simul ; tum quae mihi pocula Mansus, 
Mansus Chalcidicas non ultima gloria ripa^, 
Bina dedit, mirum artis opus, mirandus et ipse, 
Et circum g-emino caelaverat arguTuento: 
In medio rubri maris unda, et odoriferum ver, 185 
Littora longa Arabum, et sudantes balsama sylvas. 
Has inter Phoenix divina avis, unica terris, 
Ca3ruleiim fulgens diversicoloribus alis. 



POEMATA. 549 

Auroram vitreis surgentem respicit undis ; 189 

Parte alia pohis omnipatens, et magnus Olympus : 
Quis putet? hie quoque Amor, pictaeque in nube 

pharetrae, 
Arma corusca faces, et spicula tincta pyropo ; 
Nee tenues animas, pectusque ig'nobili vulgi 
Hine ferit, ad eircum flammantia lumina torquens 
Semper in erectum spargit sua tella per orbes 195 
Impiger, et pronos nunquam eollimat ad ictus. 
Hine mentes ardere sacras, formasque deoriim. 

Tu quoque in his, nee me fallit spes lubrica, Damon, 
Tu quoque in his eerte es, nam qud tua dulcis abiret 
Sanctaque simplieitas, nam quo tua Candida virtus? 
Nee te Letheeo fas qutesivisse sub orco, 201 

Nee tibi eonveniunt lacrymae, nee flebimus ultra, 
Ite proeul lacrymae, purum colit tethera Damon, 
-/'Ethera piirus habet, pluvium pede repulit areum ; 
Heroumque animas inter, divosque perennes, 205 
-^thereos haurit latices et gaudia potat 
Ore sacro. Quin tu, coeli post jura recepta, 
Dexter ades, plaeidusque fave quicunque vocaris, 
Seu tu noster eris Damon, sive aequior audis 
Diodotus, quo te divino nomine cuncti 210 

Coelieolaj norint, sylvisque vocabere Damon : 
Qu6d tibi purpureus pudor, et sine labe juventus 
Grata fuit, quod nulla tori libata voluptas. 
En etiam tibi virginei servantur honores ; 
Ipse caput nitidum einetus rutilante corona, 215 

La?taque frondentis gestans umbraeula palmge, 
iEternum perages immortales hymenaeos ; 
Cantus ubi, choreisque furit lyra mista beatis^ 
Festa Sionaeo bacchantur et Orgia Thyrso. 



650 POEMATA. 



^d JoANNK3i RousiuM Oxontensts Academia: 
BibUothecarium, 

iJ-^in. 23, 1646.) 

De libro Poematuro amisso, quern ille sibi denuo initti posf'''a« 
bat, ut cum aliis nosiris in bibliotlieca piiblica repoiieref. \^Qe. 

Siroj^he 1. 

Gemelle cultu simplici gaudeus liber, 

Fronde licet g-emina, 

Munditieque niteiis iion operosa, 

Quam nianus attulit 

Juvenilis olim, 5 

Sedula tamen hand nimii poetse ; 

Dum vagus Ausonias nunc per umbras, 

Nunc Britannica per vireta lusit 

Insons popuii, barbitoqiie devius 

Indulsit patrio, mox itidem pectine Daunio 10 

Longinquum intonuit melos 

Vicinis, et humum vix tetigit pede : 

Aiitistrofhe, 

Quis te, parve liber, quis te fratribus 

Subduxit reliquis dolo? 

Cum tu missus ab urbe, 15 

Docto jugiter obsecran.e amico 

lUustre tendebas iter 

Thamesis ad incunabula 

Caerulei patris, 

Fontes ubi limpidi 20 

Aonidum, tliyasusqiie sacer, 

Orbi notus per immeasos 

Temporum lapsus redeunte coelo, 

Celeberque futurus in ajvum ? 

Strophe 2. 

Mod5 quis deus, aut editus deo, 26 

Fristinam gentis miseratus indolem, 

(Si satis noxas luimus priores, 

Mollique luxu degener otium) 

Tollat nefandos civium tumultus, 

Almaque revocet studia sanctus, 30 



POEM AT A. 


651 


Et relegatas sine sede Musas 




Jam pene totis ftnibus Angligenum ; 




Imnmndasque volucres 




Ui)y,uibiis imminontes 


34 


Fig-at ApoUiiiea pharetra, 


[gaseo. 


Phmeatnqiie abigat pestem procul amne I'a- 1 


Antufrojyhc, 




Quill tu, libelle, nuncii licet mala 




Fide, vel oscitautia, 




Semel erraveris agiiiine fratrum, 




Seu quis te teueat specus, 


40 


Seu (lua te latebra, forsan imde vili 




Callo teveris iiistitoris insnlsi. 




Lct^tare felix, en iterum tibi 




Spes nova fulget posse profundam 




Fug'ere Lethen, vehique superam 


45 


In Jovis auiam remige pemia : 




Strophe 3. 




Nam te Uoiisius sui 




Optat peculi, ninneroque justo 




Sibi pollicitum queritur abesse. 




Hogataque venias ille, cujus inclyta 


50 


Sunt data vivum inonumenta curie : 




Teque adytis etiaiu sacris 




Vohiit reponi, qui bus et ipse pnesidet 




^iternorum operuin custos tideiis, 
Qua'storque gazaj nobiiioris, 




50 


Quam cui pra;fuit Ion 




Clurus Erechtheides 




Opulenta dei per temp] a parentis 




Fulvosque tripodas, donaque Delphica, 




Ion Actaja genitus Creusa. 


60 


Antistrophe. 




Ergo tu vise re luov^s 




TVIusarnm ibis amoenus, 




Diamque Phc»bi rursus ibis in domuui, 




Oxonia quam valle colit. 




Dele posthabita, 


05 


Bii"id6que Parnassi ju}i:o : 





652 POEMATA. 

Ibis .lOnestus, 

P'jstquam egregiam tu quoque sortem 

Nactus abis, dextri prece sollicitatus aioioi. 

lllic legeris inter alta noniina TO 

Authorum, Graiae simul et Latinae 

Antiqua gentis lumina, et verura decus. 

Epodos. 

Vos tandem haud vacui niei labores, 

Quicquid hoc sterile fudit ing'enium, 

Jam ser6 placidam sperare jubeo 75 

Perfunctam invidia requiem, sedesque beatas, 

Quas bonus Hermes 

Et tutela dabit solers Roiisi, [long^ 

Quo neque lingua procax vulgi penetrabit, atque 

Turba legentum parva facesset ; 80 

At ultimi nepotes, 

Et cordatior aetas 

Judicia rebus aequiora forsitan 

Adhibebit, integro sinu. 

Turn, livore sepulto, 85 

Si quid merenmr sana posteritas sciet, 

Roiisio favente. 

Ode tribus constat Stropliis, totidemque Antistro- 
phis, una demum Epodo clausis, quas, tametsi omnes 
nee versuum numero, nee certis ubique colis exacte 
respondeaut, ita tamen secuimus, commode legendi 
potias, quam ad antiques concinendi modos rationem 
spectantes. Alioquin hoc genus rectius fortasse dici 
monstrophicum debuerat. Metra partim sunt Kara 
ax€<riv, partim uTroXeXi/^ieva. Phaleucia qme sunt 
Spondaeum tertio loco bis admittuut, quod idem in 
secuudo loco Catullus ad libitum fecit 






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